
SOME PIONEERS AN 
PILGRIMS ON THE 
PRAIRIES OF DAKOTA 





gass r 6 5L5_ 
Book .^37. 



SOME PIONEERS and PILGRIMS 

ON THE PRAIRIES OF 

DAKOTA 



OR 

From the Ox Team to the Aeroplane 

Edited and Published by 

REV. JOHN B. REESE, A. M., B. D. 

Assisted by 

H. B. REESE 



MITCHELL, SOUTH DAKOTA 
AUGUST, 1920 






TABLE OF CONTENTS 

I. Occasion, Scope and Purpose of Record. 
II. Prying Open the Door to the Dakotas — ^Treaty 
of '58. 

III. The Second Coming of the Norsemen to America. 
The First Settlement on the Missouri Bottom, 1860. 

IV. First Settlement and Settlers of the "South Prai- 
rie," 67-71. A Memorable Trip in Search of Work. 

V. The Settlements on Turkey Creek and Clay Creek, 

70-71. 
VI. The Great Immigration of 1880 — Causes. 
VII. Landing at Yankton, Getting on the Land, and a 

Hard Struggle to Live. 
VIII. The Pioneer Mothers and Their Share in the Pri- 
vations. 
IX. Indians as Visitors and Guests. 
X. The Great Snow Winter of 1880 and the Flood 
of '81. 

XL Beginning the Grapple with the Earth. 
XII. Bird's Eye View of the Settlements in 1880-3. 

XIII. The Prairie Fires — The Annual Terror of the Set- 
tlers. 

XIV. The Great Blizzard of '88. 

XV. When the Fathers and Mothers of Today were 
Boys and Girls. 

XVI. Religious Movements and Workers Among These 
People. 

XVII. A Daughter Settlement. 

XVIII. Looking Down the Trail to the Years Ahead. 

'5 t> D -^ 5 (^ 



GREETING 

There has been an often expressed desire on the part 
of the sons and daughters of the immigrant pioneers that 
those brave men and women of a generation ago who left 
home, friends, and the graves of a hundred generations of 
ancestors, to go to a land which they knew not, there to 
toil and sacrifice that we, their children might have a better 
chance, should not be forgotten. For their lives went into 
the deep and often overlooked foundations, material and 
spiritual, without which our larger opportunities and com- 
forts of today would be impossible. Like the pioneer 
Abraham they had a large faith and went out in search of 
a Promised Land, not knowing what would be in store for 
them, for they saw it afar off. Like Moses, most of them 
died without themselves enjoying the fruits of the land or 
seeing the promise fulfilled. 

How little the young people of this generation can appre- 
ciate the hard toil, and even less, the heartaches and the 
tragedies which were the price paid by our fathers and 
mothers, for our better future! It has been the fashion of 
some small and provincially minded "Americans" who con- 
stituted themselves, as it were, into the original and only 
Americans, to sneer at the immigrant, to affect certain 
superior "airs" in relation to him. This self-appointed 
superiority, however, did not seem to bar them from taking 
undue advantage of him because of his lack of knowledge 
of the new country and its ways and methods. How little 
this class of self-appointed Americans were capable of 
understanding, not to speak of appreciating, the physical 
and mental contribution, not to speak of the moral and 
spiritual — the soul — which these immigrants brought to the 



land of their adoption. They established schools for their 
children, meeting in private houses before there were any 
public schools. They built churches for the worship of 
God while they themselves still lived in shacks and dugouts. 

So it is in response to this widespread desire, among 
those of the second and third generation from the pioneers, 
that this rich heritage of deeds and ideals, handed down 
to us by our brave and forward looking fathers and moth- 
ers, should not be forgotten but handed down in memory 
as an increasing inspiration and just pride in the lives of 
their children and children's children, that we are moved 
to write this record. For already I hear the tramp of 
countless numbers and many generations of the children 
of these pioneers. For them I compile these incidents of 
the settlers' first experiences with the new land and write 
this narrative. For if there is any reward which our fathers 
and mothers would ask of us, in return for giving up al- 
most everything on our behalf, it would be just this: Re- 
membrance and a little appreciation — understanding. 

As to the origin, scope and plan of this narrative, this 
explanation should be made: 

The real mover in getting this narrative started is my 
brother, H. B. Reese. He has also collected a part of the 
materials used and written out some of it. In editing and 
incorporating this material and other contributions into the 
book, I have made a free translation of it and also made 
changes and additions here and there as seemed desirable. 

As to the scope and plan, especially as to the particular 
persons included or left out, the question will no doubt 
arise in the minds of some readers: "Why are just these 
individuals named and not others who were equally worthy 
and whose experiences were no less interesting?" The 
answer is simply this: This particular group and their ex- 
periences are best known to us, while that of others is not 
so well known. Then, too, the necessary limitations of 
space because of the costs involved, compel us to leave out 



much of which we have, or could get sufficient knowledge 
to use. Lastly, we present this work on the theory that 
the people, incidents and circumstances here included, 
represent the ordinary immigrant's experiences and thus serve 
to give a fairly correct view of pioneer days as a whole. 
So if some reader should have a feeling that such and such 
names or incidents should have been included, remember 
this omission is not because other names may not have 
been equally worthy, but rather that because of limitations of 
space and knowledge we had to choose a few as types 
and representatives of all the rest. The individual names 
of these pioneers will all too soon be forgotten in any 
case. But these pioneers as a class and their deeds, I trust, 
shall never be forgotten. So kindly remember that tho your 
father and mother, dear reader, may have been among the 
first settlers of the region here described and otherwise 
also closely connected with the group here mentioned, and 
still their names are not included, yet their lives are includ- 
ed. For the life we attempt to reproduce in picture here 
with its hardships and adventures, was the life and sacrifice 
of them all. You may in many cases substitute almost any 
pioneer name, and the picture of the period would be essen- 
tially correct. So, then, this is written in honor and 
memory of them all, the un-named as well as the named. 
Thus, then, to all the sons and daughters of the Viking 
pioneers of the prairie who between the years of 1859- 
1889 took up the hard struggle with untamed nature on the 
far-stretching prairies of Dakota and Minnesota, I humbly 
dedicate this memorial. To all the brave men and women 
who bore the heat and the brunt of those days of toil and 
hardship, we, their children, together offer this little tribute 
of our love and remembrance. 

John B. Reese, 
April 21, 1918. Mitchell S. D, 



CHAPTER I 
Prying Open the Door into the Rich Lands of 

THE DaKOTAS 

Previous to April, 1858, Dakota Territory for a century 
or more had been the hunting ground and undisputed 
possession of the Yankton Sioux. However, for some years 
before this date many adventurous, enterprising members 
of the white race in the adjoining states of Iowa, Minne- 
sota and Nebraska, had cast covetous eyes across the bor- 
ders. Not a few even followed their eyes and entered in 
spite of the prohibition of the government and the hostili- 
ties of the Indian. Many more, encamped along the 
borders were watching the negotiations between the govern- 
ment and the Yanktons, eager and alert to step over the 
line the very instant the door should be opened. 

According to the available data on the Indian history 
of this region, previous to 1750 it was occupied by the 
Omahas, who held the Big Sioux and James river valleys. 
These were driven out about 1750 by the Teton Sioux, who 
came previously from the woods of Minnesota. The Teton 
Sioux also engaged the Rees, then having strongholds on 
the Missouri, especially in and around Pierre, and after a 
forty years' struggle drove them north to Grand River 
and then to where their remnants are still found in the 
vicinity of Fort Berthold, North Dakota. 

At this time of the Treaty, this region was held by the 
Yankton and Yanktonais Sioux, who had been driven from 
western Iowa by the Ottos about 1780 and had settled the 
lower James River Valley. 

The first attempt at a settlement at Yankton was made 
in the spring of 1858 by one W. P. Holman, his son C. J. 



Holman, both of Sergeants Bluff, Iowa, and Ben Stafford, 
together with four or five others from Sioux City. In antic- 
ipation of an early treaty these men came up on the 
Nebraska side of the river and, crossing over at Yankton, 
built a camp. But about a month later the Indians, jealous 
of their hunting grounds and suspicious of the designs of 
the intruders, drove them back across the river. 

The next May, however, on the strength of a false rumor 
that the treaty had been ratified, these men floated logs 
across from their Nebraska camp, working all night, and 
next day laid twelve foundations. The following day con- 
struction of the first log cabin was begun. But before this 
could be finished some seventy-five Indians appeared and 
began to hurl the newly founded city of Yankton into the 
river. It was fortunate, as Mr. Holman, who was one of the 
party, suggests, that the new settlers had left their guns 
on the other side. For had they had their arms they 
would hardly have been able to submit to the destruction 
of their town without a fight, and if it had come to a fight 
the Indians were as yet too many. As it was, the intruders 
resorted to diplomacy, and by much "fine talk" succeeded 
in saving most of their belongings as well as of the con- 
struction and in holding their ground. The next day a 
feast was promptly made to Chief Dog's Claw and his 
warriors, and as is always the case with men, red or white, 
this feast had the desired effect, at least for the time being. 
The log house was built altho subsequently burned in 
October, 1858. 

The first permanent buildings, as far as we can ascertain, 
were those of the Frost, Todd Co. Trading Post. There 
were, of course, Indian tepees scattered over the present 
city and vicinity of Yankton, but these appeared and disap- 
peared again with the movements of their inhabitants. 
There was also about this time a cabin built on the east 
side of the present James River bridge by J. M. Stone, who 
operated a ferry boat. 



8 

It is stated by the late Mayor J. R. Hanson of Yankton, 
who came to Yankton with a party of pioneers from Wino- 
na, Minnesota, in 1858, that more than one hundred locations 
of 160 acres had already been staked out in the vicinity of 
Yankton on his arrival. These, of course, later had to be 
filed on in the regular way when the land became legally 
opened to settlers. 

As already indicated, the treaty for the opening of this 
land for settlement was at last arranged in 1858, but it was 
not until July 10, 1859, that the land was legally opened 
for settlers by ratification of the treaty. On that very date 
the streams of expectant immigrants, waiting on the bor- 
ders of Nebraska and Iowa, poured in like a flood and the 
towns of Vermilion, Meckling, Yankton and Bon Homme 
were all founded in a day. On the 22nd of July Elk Point 
was first settled. 

An interesting story is told of the long extended Indian 
pow-wows and the fiery harangues on the part of the 
chiefs before they finally relinquished their ancient camp- 
ing ground and the graves of their fathers on the present 
site of Yankton. The government had made tempting offers 
in the way of regular rations of food, blankets and many 
other commodities, not to speak of money and large reser- 
vations of land to be guaranteed for the exclusive possession 
of the tribe. These immediate benefits and creature com- 
forts made a powerful appeal to the common crowd among 
the Indians. This faction was led by Chief Struck by the 
Ree, who was friendly to the Whites. The other chiefs, 
however, many of whom were shrewd and able men and 
thought with their heads rather than, as the crowd did, with 
their stomachs, keenly realized what the little act of signing 
this treaty involved. They saw that it meant that when 
they should fold their tepees and journey westward this 
time they could never return. They knew that it meant 
the final abandonment of their immemorial hunting grounds 
and the beautiful camping site of Yankton with the graves 




THE OLD SOD SHANTY ON THE CLAIM. 
NEAR ARMOUR. S. DAK. 



9 

of their fathers, to the pale faces who would come in like 
a flood and once in they could no more be turned back than 
the tides of the sea. In many and prolonged councils these 
chiefs, such as Smutty Bear and Mad Bull, had pressed 
upon their people these and other considerations against 
the signing of the White man's treacherous papers. With 
burning words of appeal, now to this motive now to that, 
with stinging rebuke of those who would so lightly sell out 
their birthright and ancestral heritage, as well as that of 
their children and the unborn generations to come, they 
spoke with an eloquence which seemed for the time to stir 
and elevate even the craven spirits of those who had favored 
the treaty. But just at this point, when it looked as tho 
the treaty would be rejected and the Indians would stay 
where they were, a government boat carrying large supplies 
of food and other desirable commodities whistled down the 
river. The word was soon passed that these treasures would 
be taken up the river some thirty miles to their new home 
near the present site of Springfield, and be distributed to 
the Indians in case they would now vacate and carry out 
the treaty. The temptation was too great. All the oratory 
was forgotten in the prospect of food, clothing and glitter- 
ing spangles. There was no more argument. The tepees 
with strange and significant rapidity and universality be- 
gan to come down and get loaded. The travaux, loaded 
with the whole household belongings and also in some cases 
with children, began to move silently but surely toward 
the West, heading for the rendezvous appointed by the 
steam boat people. Deserted by their people, the chiefs, 
realizing that they were face to face with an irresistible 
tide and were fighting a hopeless fight, followed their 
people with sad and bitter spirits as they all trekked toward 
the setting sun, never more to return to the rich valley and 
far-flung prairies of the lower Missouri. Before the van- 
quished and vanishing Indian had gotten out of sight over 
the hills the eager White man was moving in. 



CHAPTER II 

The Second Coming of the Norsemen to America 

It is now quite generally conceded that Leif Erikson and 
his party, as also other adventurous spirits of Iceland and 
Norway, visited these shores half a thousand years before 
Columbus. The second coming of the Norsemen, or the 
immigration to America from Norway in any considerable 
numbers, began about 1840. Illinois, Wisconsin, Iowa, 
Minnesota, Nebraska, and the Dakotas, about in the order 
named, came to receive this large influx of the hardy Norse- 
men. Wherever they went they took their full share, and 
more, of helping to build the railroads, fell the forests, 
subdue the prairies and build a Christian civilization. 

The first settlement of considerable size in South Dakota 
was, as far as we can learn, made in 1860, between the 
James river and Gayville. Other settlers followed in the 
succeeding years, spreading out over the bottom and later 
up on the prairie to the north. Among those who came to 
the vicinity of Yankton in the decade of 1860-70 we would 
mention the following: Ole Odland, '62; Ole C. Pederson, 
'66; Lars Hanson, '66; 0. L. Hanson, '67; Ole Pederson, 
'67; Nee. Hanson, '68; Lars Bergsvenson, '68; Andrew 
Simonson, '68; J. M. Johnson (Irene), '68; Ole Bjerke, '69; 
Ole Lien (Volin), formerly of Brule, Union County, '68, 
with his sons Charles and Edward Lien; Jorgen Bruget; 
Christian Marendahl, '67; Nels Brekke, '67; Peder Engen; 
Gunder Olson, '68; Hal do Saether, '69; Sivert Nysether 
also came about this time. 

Iver Bjerke and Mark Johnson appear to be the first 
native born children of the Scandinavian immigrants in this 



11 

part of the country, both being born in '69. However, Ole 
Jelley of Clay County holds the honor of being, not only 
the first child born of Norse parents in the state, but of 
being, as far as is known, the first male white child born 
in South Dakota. He was born March 2, 1860. 

Others who came in this period were Ole Skaane, '69; 
C. Freng, '69; J. T. Nedved, '68; G. Gulbranson, '69; P. J. 
Freng, '69; Halvor Aune, '69. 

In the next decade, 1870-80, we find these well known 
names: I. S. Fagerhaug (Irene), '70; 0. Kjelseth and two 
sons, George and C. J. Kjelseth, '70; Ole Lee (Aune), '70; 
0. P. Olsen, '70; A. 0. Saugstad, '70; 0. J. Anderson 
(Irene), '70; H. Hoxeng with his sons Thore and Jens, '70; 
P. J. Nyberg, '72; J. J. Nissen, '72; John Aaseth, '72; Peter 
Carlson, '72; the Bagstad brothers, Iver, Mathias and Emil; 
and Hans Helgerson, '74; John Gjevik and Lars Aaen, '75. 

The settlement in Clay Creek was begun a little earlier 
than Turkey Creek, or about '69. Among those who first 
broke the virgin sod there were 0. Skanne, 0. Gustad, H. 
Hagen, and his son Albert, the latter also sharing the honor 
with B. B. Haugan of breaking the first furrow of the sod 
in Mayfield Township. Then there were Benjamin Ander- 
son, Peter Olaus, R. Olsen, A. 0. Saugstad and Fredrik 
Aune. 

It was at the beginning of this decade, 1870-80, that 
the settlement of the Turkey Creek Valley was begun by I. 
Fagerhaug, S. Hinseth, Halvor Hinseth (1870) ; and Ole 
Solem; Jens Eggen to the south, and John Rye to the north 
end of the valley. 

We are aware that this list of early settlers is far from 
complete. No complete list could be made at this time, as 
many of them are long since gone and forgotten. We hope, 
however, that this is fairly comprehensive, and should we 
meet with enough favor to warrant another edition of this 
memorial, then, by the help of some of our readers, we 
may be able to gather up some of the missing names which 



12 

ought to be included. In such an edition there should also 
be a record of the children, boys and girls, of these first 
settlers. This would be of more interest and value in the 
years to come, as a matter of reference, than we can now 
realize. To be able to prove by the records that we came 
from one of the "old families" of first settlers may be an 
object a hundred years from now. 

On the adventures, hardships, struggles and triumphs 
of these first Norse settlers on the Missouri bottom we can- 
not dwell, nor do we have much available material, as there 
are not many left now to tell the story. There were Indians 
as in the Massacre of '62, when Judge Amiden and his son 
were killed near Sioux Falls. There were fires, droughts 
and blizzards. Then grasshoppers in '63, '64, '74, '76. And 
all the time the lack of even what are now the common 
necessities, not to speak of the comforts and conveniences 
of life. The table had to be provided largely from what 
the settlers themselves could produce from the untamed soil 
and the clothes from the coarse cheap cloth available at the 
few towns, such as blue denim for men and calico for 
women. 

The settlers in this region had one advantage in their 
start on a bare soil. Wood for fuel and timber was avail- 
able. While this timber was largely cottonwood and willow, 
yet out of the cottonwood, and occasionally oak, they were 
able to construct log houses. This was quite an advantage 
here, as dugouts on this level and low lying land would not 
have been even as satisfactory as on the prairie. 

These men and women who led in subduing the raw, 
untamed soil may be likened to soldiers in the first line 
trenches as also to shock troops. In order that others 
might reap the fruits of victory some had to be sacrificed. 
Many of these front liners perished early in the struggle. 
Others have come down even to the present. But within 
and outside they bear the marks, D. S. C's, may I say, of 
the great days of battle. 



CHAPTER III 

The First Settlement of the Prairie From the Missouri 
Bottom North as Far as the Turkey Creek Valley 

Among the first to homestead and build on this tract, in 
early days called the South Prairie, were, as far as we can 
learn. Christian Marendahl; Nils Brekke, '67; John 
Sleeper, '68; Gunder Olsen, '68; Peder Engen, Sivert Ny- 
sether, Esten Nyhus, Ole Liabo, Iver Furuness, and Miss 
Marie Hoxeng came during '68-'69. Ole Bjerke and H. 
Sether came in '69. About this time came also Lars Aaen. 
The Hoxengs came the next year, or 1870, and Hans Dahl 
and Lars Eide a little later. 

It may be of interest as illustrating how these people 
got on their chosen locations, to describe in brief the experi- 
ences of some of them. 

Ole Bjerke came to Sioux City in the spring of '69. 
This little village was then the "farthest west" as far as the 
railroad was concerned. Thru an acquaintance of his, Joe 
Sleeper, I believe, he had become interested in the far away 
prairie north of Yankton, which was open for settlement. 
Accordingly he bought, thru Mr. Halseth of Sioux City, a 
yoke of oxen and a wagon, the standard equipment of the 
pioneer settler of those days. These oxen, like most of 
their tribe, were wild and unruly; ran away, broke the 
wagon to pieces and were lost for some weeks. Finally the 
trip was made over the winding prairie trail westward thru 
Brule and Vermilion, thence along the bluffs to their desti- 
nation. It was a long, weary trip thru the tall grass, and 
the accommodations in the way of food and sleep at the few 
human habitations along the way were not of the kind to 



14 

cheer the weary pilgrims. For in most cases a rude shelter 
was all they could obtain, having to provide food and bed- 
ding for themselves, the owners often being bachelors, 
sometimes "at home" and often not at home for months. 

On arriving at their destination, Mr. and Mrs. Bjerke 
were able to share shelter with a kind neighbor already on 
the ground until they could construct one of their own. 
Here, soon after their arrival, Iver Bjerke was born and 
was the first child to receive baptism in this settlement. In 
this hospitable home of Mr. and Mrs. Bjerke were also held 
the first religious services in this vicinity, in 1869. These 
services were conducted by Rev. Nesse from Brule, who 
became the first pastor of these people. There was at this 
time, '69, no neighbor to the north nearer than Swan Lake, 
eighteen miles away. 



CHAPTER IV 

First Settlement and Settlers of the "South Prairie," 
1867-71, Memorable Trip in Search of Work 

However, in '69 and '70 there came to be a consider- 
able settlement on the South Prairie of the people already 
named and others who came in the latter '60's and early 
'70's. 

When we say that people "settled" here at this time it 
must not be interpreted to mean that they began to put up 
gpod buildings, break the sod and raise grain and cattle. 
These activities were for many as yet years away. As a 
general thing a rude dwelling of logs, sod, or a dugout was 
made to shelter the family and to fulfil the law in regard 
to getting deed to the land. Also a few acres were broken, 
perhaps five or ten, to comply with these homestead re- 
quirements. Then about the next thing was for the men 
folks to strike out for the forts on the upper Missouri in 
order to earn a little money, by cutting wood or working 
on other government jobs, to support themselves and their 
families. This work and the wretched food and "accom- 
modations" given them would have broken these men in 
body and spirit had they not been young and vigorous in 
body as well as unconquerable in spirit. 

Perhaps we can reproduce the experiences of many of 
the above named homesteaders of the '60's and early '70's 
by giving the actual story of one group who went up the 
river to find work, as related to us by one of the parties, 
Ole Lee, now living near Volin. 

Mr. Lee came to America in 1870, May 18th, and 
landed, like most of the above named, in Sioux City, where 



16 

his brother Halvor Aune had already preceded him. With 
only 35 cents with which to start in the new country, Mr. 
Lee counted himself fortunate in finding a job at $1.75 
per day, even tho board had to be paid out of this. But 
even this fortune did not last long, for Sioux City was a 
small place and had little development at that time. Yet, 
however short Ole was in cash, he did have some capital 
which could be invested in the new country and would 
in time compel success. He had a good, sound body, great 
courage, a cheerful disposition and a good talking apparatus, 
altho as yet operating mostly in the Norwegian language. 
So having learned that there was work and better pay than 
he had been getting, in connection with the steamboat traf- 
fic and the government forts on the upper Missouri, he in 
company with a number of others started west to seek for- 
tune as also adventure. As most of these men were young 
and unmarried, the Viking spirit of adventure and daring 
was not absent. 

It was in the spring of 1871 that these young men, 
gathered at Yankton, decided to trek over the country to 
Fort Sully, 300 miles away, in search of work. 

They had among them scarcely any money and some 
even owed their winter's board. So at first they thought 
of starting out afoot. But thru an acquaintance of one of 
the party they were able to buy an ox team on time, agree- 
ing to pay $180.00 for the same, including an old wagon. 
They were able to buy a few provisions, such as flour and 
salt pork, for their own use on the way, and some sacks of 
oats for the oxen as hay or grass could not be depended 
on, the vast prairie often being burned off. 

There were eighteen of these young explorers in all and 
while one drove the oxen by turns the other seventeen 
walked behind the wagon. Besides the two brothers already 
mentioned, there were in this company Emret and Sivert 
Mjoen; also Sivert and Christopher Haakker, Ingibricht 



17 

Satrum, Iver Furuness, Ole Solem, Ole Yelle, Albert Meslo, 
Anders Krengness and Thomas Berg. I have not the names 
of the others of the party. 

These young men, altho afoot and with meager provi- 
sions, on their way toward a far-off destination and unknown 
conditions, yet trudged along day after day with jokes and 
laughter. At noon or night, wherever they happened to be 
on the broad plains, the same cooking routine was per- 
formed, each taking his turn. Get out the long handled 
frying pan, the fire having been built, fry pancakes or 
flap-jacks, and perhaps a little pork, and boil some coffee. 
Then if it was the evening meal they would sit around the 
fire a while to stretch their weary legs, smoke a pipe, talk 
over and speculate on the prospects ahead and then roll 
up in their blankets for the night. 

One day, as they were nearing Fort Thompson, having 
followed the course of the river so far, they met a man 
driving a mule team. Surmising from their appearance 
that these men were in a situation to accept work of most 
any kind or on any condition, he stopped to parley with 
them. He had a government contract to cut 900 cords of 
wood on an island below Ft. Thompson. So he offered these 
men $2 per cord to cut this wood. They were only too eager 
to grasp this first opportunity, especially as he was to 
furnish them board. But what should they do with their 
joint property — oxen and wagon? The man, realizing he 
had made a "find" in these eager strong handed men, didn't 
let this stand in the way but bought the outfit for $185.00. 
They thus made $5.00 on the deal, and in regular democratic 
style it was voted in assembly to send back the $180.00 due 
the former owner of the oxen; sell the remainder of the 
oats and with the total proceeds have a little "refreshment" 
before they began their summer's work. This they did in 
reaching the fort, and the only refreshments to be had in 
those places being in liquid form, there was just enough 
money in the treasury to buy them "one each." 



18 

Now, let it be remembered by this and all coming gen- 
erations that this was the first commercial co-operative 
enterprise, as far as we know, in this part of the country, 
and that it yielded a profit — it "liquidated." 

They now immediately began cutting wood on this island 
below Fort Thompson, and it was well that they had had 
some "refreshment," for what they now received in the way 
of board was fearfully and wonderfully made. It con- 
sisted of spoiled pork and wormy flour, rejected by the 
soldier commissary at the fort and bought for little or 
nothing by this shameless contractor to feed these unsus- 
pecting men. Out of this material, a not over clean negro 
cook made two standard dishes — soda biscuits and fried 
pork. Often the remnants of the worms, embalmed and 
baked into the biscuits could be plainly seen. 

The men bore as patiently as they could with this 
sickening food, for there was little else to do now under 
their circumstances. But their stomachs rebelled, however, 
and the men became so weakened thru continued diarrhea 
that they could scarcely lift the ax at times. Yet with 
characteristic Viking spirit they "stuck it out" until the 
900 cords were hewn. The men now separated, some going 
back to Yankton or vicinity. Ole Lee and his brother 
Halvor, however, pushed on up to Fort Sully, or Cheyenne 
Agency, where the former remained for five years without 
seeing civilization again in the meantime. By this time Mr. 
Lee, as well as others of the above named company, had 
been able to save up a little money and homesteaded in 
Yankton county, where some of them and many of their 
descendants live to this day, not a few of them being worth 
$100,000 each. You recall we began our narrative of one 
of them with a capital of 35 cents. The explanation of 
this, of 35 cents to $100,000; of the borrowed ox team and 
rickety wagon to the finest automobiles in the market; of 
the sod shanty or dugout to the big modern houses with 



19 

all the latest conveniences which some of these men have 
today, lies in two or three words — America and the Norse 
immigrants' great characteristics, industrially speaking — 
industry and thrift. 

We have suggested the striking change which fifty years 
have wrought in the outward circumstances of these men. 
Would that the intervening years could have been equally 
kind to the men themselves as to their earthly tabernacles! 
But such could not be the case, altho several of them are 
still living and a number spending their declining years as 
neighbors in the vicinity of Volin. The heat and toil of 
many summers have wrinkled their brows; the snows of 
many winters and some sorrows and cares have whitened 
the hair and given a stoop to the shoulders. The step is a 
little less firm now than when they together marched over 
the prairie to the west; their laughter has lost some of its 
ring, and yet it is there. With their children and grand- 
children they are enjoying a little deserved rest before the 
final journey to the last sunset of life's trail. 

There is Ole Lee, Ole Solem, Halvor Hinseth and the 
Hoxengs, still active and living in good, comfortable homes 
and in the same neighborhood. There is Ole Bjerke, once 
tall and straight as a young pine of the forest, now a little 
bent over and gray. There, too, is his wife, remarkably 
well preserved in both body and mental faculties. How 
many generations of "newcomers" have received a hearty 
welcome and hospitality in these homes and have been by 
them helped to get a start in the new land ! Long will they 
live enshrined in the hearts and memories of the many who 
have enjoyed the hospitality of their firesides. 

Yes, most of these pioneers of forty to sixty years ago 
have already struck the long trail and gone to that "West" 
which is the farthest and the final. Of the few who remain, 
the earthly tabernacles are leaning more and more toward 
the earth from which they came, and in a very short time 



20 

not one will be left standing. Yet because man's immortal 
hope burns strongly in many of them, the building of 
flesh, tho feebler than of yore, is glorious with that light 
which the years and the eternities cannot dim nor extinguish, 
for it is eternal in the Heavens. 



CHAPTER V 

The Settlements on Turkey Creek, and Clay 
Creek, '70-71 

The settlement in Turkey Creek was made in 1870. A 
man by the name of John Hovde, who had homesteaded 
in Union county some years previously, made a trip back 
to Norway and on his return the following people came 
over with him: Anfin Utheim and wife; Olaf Stolen; 
Haakon Hoxeng with his two sons, already referred to, and 
one daughter; Stingrim Hinseth with wife and one baby 
daughter, Mary; Halvor Hinseth; Ingebright Fagerhaug; 
and Marit Nysether, who later became his wife, and a num- 
ber of other men and women who went to other parts of 
the country. 

These people reached Sioux City May 18, 1870. There 
some of the men of the company found work on the rail- 
road. The others, including S. and H. Hinseth and Miss 
Nysether, journeyed on by ox team toward their friends 
already described as settled on the South Prairie, i.e., north 
of the present Volin. Their baggage went by steam boat 
to Yankton. Mr. and Mrs. S. Hinseth, who had a little 
six-year-old baby daughter, went by stage as far as Ver- 
milion and there transferred to the ox team, the stage 
going on to Yankton. 

We will here quote from a brief narrative which Mr. 
S. Hinseth, at our request, prepared for this record just 
before his death (1918). As Mr. Hinseth was one of the 
outstanding leaders in this immigration movement and in 
the building up of the new country, both materially and 
spiritually, we are very fortunate in getting these memo- 
randa directly from him. We regret that he was cut off 
before he could finish them. 

"We reached our destination in Yankton county on a 



22 

Sunday. That day there was church service at the home 
of Mr. and Mrs. 0. Bjerke, conducted by pastor Nesse of 
Brule, Union county. 

"There was no possibility of getting work in the neigh- 
borhood, so a number of us went up to Fort Randall, where 
we obtained work cutting cord wood for steamboat use. 
We remained there until fall, when Halvor Hinseth and 
myself homesteaded in Turkey Valley township and were 
the first to settle there. 

"We lived in Iver Furuness' house that winter, and in 
the spring of 1871 we moved to the place belonging to 
Christian Marendahl, whose field we rented that season. 
That fall we moved onto our own homesteads on Turkey 
Creek. 

"Life was often dreary for us in those first years, for 
neighbors were few and far apart. However, we had oc- 
casional visits from Rev. Filing Eielsen, whom we knew 
from the time he visited our part of the country in Norway, 
and we were very glad of those visits. We also had pas- 
toral visits from Gunder Graven, whom we later called, 
and who served us for many years during our pioneer 
days. Throndhjem's congregation became organized, I be- 
lieve, in 1871. We belonged accordingly to the Evangeli- 
cal Lutheran Synod, or, as it was also called, Fielsen^s 
Synod, and still later became known as Hauge's Synod. 
This in turn became merged, in 1917, in the Norwegian 
Lutheran Church of America. 

"In 1877, I believe, Throndhjem's congregation became 
divided into what are now Zion's and Throndhjem's. This 
latter, in distinction from the northern congregation, which 
kept the name Throndhjem, at first took the name Thrond- 
hjem's Free Congregation and later Zion's. 

"This division arose from a disagreement as to the site 
for the proposed church building. The site at first chosen 
was on Peder Engen's farm, or practically where the Zion's 
church building now stands. This seemed too far south for 



23 

those living in the northern part of the original parish, so 
they formed the present organization of Throndhjem's and 
built on the present site in the early '80's. 

"In 1901 a terrible storm swept over the whole state, 
and in this storm, in common with many others, these con- 
gregations lost their church buildings. Also the buildings 
of Meldahl's and Salem's, which congregations were organ- 
ized considerably later than the above, were destroyed. This 
was a great loss. However, under the energetic leadership 
of Rev. C. Olberg, then pastor of all four congregations 
above named as also of Salem's, the people rallied with 
splendid loyalty and sacrifice so that soon the buildings 
were not only rebuilt but in a more modern and substantial 
form than the structures destroyed." 

Mr. Henseth also tells of the makeshifts for stables and 
granaries in those first years. As lumber could not be 
afforded they would make a grain storage by laying a 
square of rails after the fashion of a rail fence, then they 
would line this with hay or straw to fill in the large spaces 
between the rails and put the grain inside. 

Stables were made from a little frame work of rails, for 
roof at least, and this was covered with hay or straw. The 
walls were usually the same materials and were eaten up 
during the winter as a general occurrence and had to be 
restored in the fall. 

We have heard Halvor Hinseth and other pioneers in 
these settlements tell of their experiences in going to mill 
in the first ten years or more. As the grasshoppers destroyed 
most of the small grain in '74 and '76 the settlers had 
barely enough for flour and a little seed. The nearest mill 
was three miles south of St. Helena, Nebraska. As this 
was south of the present Gayville they would either have 
to go by Yankton to cross the river or else cross on the 
ice in the winter. Mr. H. Hinseth relates one trip, vivid 
in his memory, when they with their loads got into deep 
snow out on the bottom; got lost in the brush south of 



24 

Gayville; were refused shelter when they at last found a 
light from a cabin in the brush; how their horses gave out 
and the sleds broke down and the men themselves were 
about used up. Sometimes they would be overtaken by a 
snowstorm on their trip and be snowed in for several days, 
so these mill trips would often take a week's time and more 
toil and hardship than we can describe. But they managed 
to get back sometime and with flour for the family. 



CHAPTER VI 
The Great Immigration of 1880 — Cause of 

If a man had stood by the king's highway leading from 
Opdal, Norway, to the seaport town of Trondhjem, in the 
month of April, 1880, he could have witnessed a strange 
and significant scene. Here comes a procession of twenty 
or more sleds, each drawn by a single small horse. The 
sleds were heavily loaded with large, blue-tinted chests, 
as also trunks, satchels and numerous smaller articles of 
household and family use. Riding on top of these loads 
are mothers with little children as also a number of grand- 
mothers, the latter upwards of seventy years of age. A 
number of lighter sleds, or cutters, are also in the proces- 
sion. These belong to friends of this pilgrim procession, 
who are accompanying them part way and are now about 
to say, or have already said, their final farewell and God- 
speed to these pilgrims — their friends and relations. This 
may explain in part the fact that the men walk by the side 
of their loads in silence, with downcast eyes and a lump 
in their throats, while the women show clear traces of re- 
cent tears. Nor can we blame them for succumbing for 
the moment to their emotions when we come to understand 
the meaning of this strange scene. 

These people, about sixty in number, this day were 
leaving that spot on God's earth most dear to them; leaving 
the birthplace and the resting-place of a hundred genera- 
tions of their ancestors, they were looking for the last time 
on their former homes and on the dear familiar spots so 
well known from their childhood. They had just looked 
for the last time upon the faces of their friends and near 



26 

relatives and spoken the last words, and soon they were to 
see the receding outlines of the mountain peaks of their 
beloved fatherland, nevermore to see them again. For they 
were on the way to America, and America was very far off 
in those days, and to most people going there the way back 
was forever closed. So to these people these last glimpses 
and handshakes and words were the final, as far as this 
world went, and they were all too well aware of it. 

But let us pause in the journey at this point, while still 
under the influence of the nearby majestic mountains, robed 
in evergreen and crowned with the snows of generations, 
so as to get acquainted with the individuals of this com- 
pany and also to learn the causes which could lead these 
people to an undertaking so fraught with momentous des- 
tiny for all of them and for their descendants to the end 
of time. As we have already surmised, these people were 
not light-minded adventurers or people who had nothing to 
risk or lose. On the contrary, they were deeply rooted 
where they were and they did not pluck up their life by the 
roots to be transplanted in a far-off, unknown soil without 
careful consideration and a great motive. 

First we meet Berhaug Rise (later written Reese) who 
seems to be a leader in this particular group we have before 
us. He is a man of about forty-five, of spare build and 
medium height. He has a family consisting of wife and 
five children — four boys and one girl; also his mother 
who is nearly seventy years of age. The children's names 
were Ole, eleven years; Halvor, nine; John, coming seven; 
Sivert, five; and Mary, three years, and named after the 
grandmother. 

Next we get acquainted with Halvor Hevle, a man also 
of about forty-five, but because of a terrible affliction of 
rheumatism, was bent over so that his face is toward the 
ground. He is accompanied by his wife, Marit, but they 
have no children. 

Then there is Thore Fossem with his wife, his mother 



27 

and one little girl, Marie, named after the grandmother. 
It should be explained here that while this last named 
family was not present in the above group just at this 
point of the story but came a little later, yet because 
Mr. Fossem belongs by every other circumstance to this 
group, and in spiritual kinship and motive particularly 
with the above two, we include him here. With Thore 
Fossem came Ingebricht Satrum with one of his boys, I 
believe, but most of his family came over a year or two 
later. 

The above three men had all been owners of small 
or medium sized farms and had advanced money for 
transportation to most of the others in the party from the 
recent sale of their properties. The remainder of the 
party, as we shall see, was largely composed of middle 
aged tradesmen, young unattached men and girls, prac- 
tically all of them without means of their own to make 
the long journey. Most of these middle aged men of 
trades had left large families behind and expected to earn 
enough money in the new land to repay their own passage 
and also to send for their families as soon as possible. 
But more of this later, for the when and the how of the 
repayment of some of these transportations would be out 
of place here, tho not without some very interesting features. 

One of these men who was master of a trade and who 
also belongs, in the sense of an absolutely kindred spirit, 
to the above three, was Iver Sneve. He left wife and five 
children, taking with him his two older boys, Ingebricht 
and Ole. 

In much the same economic relation was Anders Elling- 
son Loe, a shoemaker by trade. Also Arne Loe, who was 
a mason and left wife and three children behind until he 
could send for them. 

To this class should also be added Ingebricht Brenden, 
having left his wife and five children — Ingebricht, Knut, 
Elli, Sigrid and Kjerstine. 



28 

Among the younger married men were John Lien with 
wife and one boy, Esten, as also his mother, who was an- 
other member of the considerable group of grandmas in 
the party. 

Here should be mentioned also Lars Hansen Almen with 
wife and two boys — Hans and Olaus as also Mrs. Almen's 
mother, who makes the fourth member of the remarkable 
grandmother class in this group of pilgrims to a faraway 
country. 

Then there were the following young and middle aged 
unmarried men and women: Hdri Loe, now Mrs. Sneve of 
Inwood, Iowa; Kari Rathe; Marit Myren; Haakon Mellem- 
sether or Haagenson; Sivert Aalbu; John Riskaasen; and 
Jens Rise. 

In all there were fifty-two passages bought on the same 
boat for the same place in America; viz., Yankton, South 
Dakota. One or two of the group, I believe, went to Brook- 
ings, South Dakota, including Mr. Haagenson. 

We left these people, while making this digression, on 
the king's highway severing forever the strong ties that 
bound them to the land and the people of their birth. As 
we now resume our journey with them, especially if we 
have not made the trip before, we are irresistibly attracted 
by the wild and rugged manifestations of nature along our 
route. Both the way and its surroundings were prophetic 
of the much further stretching way to be traversed, often 
with weary feet, by these people, could they have fore- 
seen it. 

The road, tho well built, winds endlessly and often in 
sharp turns thru the narrow valley between the mountains 
which in places almost form a gorge. In many places the 
road is cut out of the solid rock of the mountain side so 
that on one side is the high and nearly perpendicular cliff; 
on the other, and only a few feet away, the almost per- 
pendicular descent to the raging, roaring river hundreds of 
feet below. The sun is only now (April) beginning to re- 



29 

duce the eight months' snow on the mountains. This turns 
the river in the main valleys, as well as the hundreds of 
smaller streams coming down the mountain sides, into 
whitefoamed, tumultuous torrents rolling great stones be- 
fore them and resounding thru the adjacent valleys and 
mountain sides with a deep and deafening roar — beware! 
beware! 

Looking up the mountain sides we see pine and ever- 
green creeping up well toward the top. But while the sides 
are thus robed in beautiful green, the tops are crowned with 
the pure white of the "eternal" snows. So Iiere was both 
music and raiment fit for kings and the sons of Vikings, 
and these sounds and sights those people never forgot nor 
could forget. 

After a two-day tramp thru the snow and slush we 
reach the railway station, Storen, fifty miles from our start- 
ing point. Here the drivers return and more sad partings 
and some tears. Fortunately the new sights and experiences 
now begin to crowd upon the consciousness of these people 
and help them forget for the time being, just what they 
most need to forget, what lies behind, if they are to suc- 
cessfully march forward. Most of these people had never 
before been out of the parish in which they were born or 
seen a railway or locomotive, not to speak of riding behind 
one. And being naturally intelligent and forward looking 
men and women, they took a deep interest in the new world 
which continually unfolded to them as they journied on to- 
ward their faroff destination, covering nearly a month of 
time. 

We must now turn to the causes or motives which led 
these people to undertake this long journey, so full of perils 
and uncertainties, and also of hardships which can better 
be imagined than described in detail. Transatlantic travel, 
forty years ago, was about as different from what it is now 
as the ox team was different from the automobile. 

The causes of this emigration, as one might almost sur- 



30 

mise, were both economic and religious. The religious mo- 
tive was especially apparent as far as the leaders were 
concerned. 

Some years before this migration, a traveling evangelist 
had come thru Opdal and had held meetings from house to 
house in the neighborhood where these! people lived, the 
state church building not being open for that sort of re- 
ligious exercises. His name was Hans Remen, or as he was 
often called, Hans Romsdalen. He was a giant in physical 
proportions and also had a moral courage and religious 
ardor to match his body. He denounced the dead forms of 
religion current in the Lutheran State Church as of no avail, 
and worse than nothing, in that they caused people to rest 
their salvation on a false foundation. He testified by re- 
ference to the Bible, and to personal experience, that the 
only basis of salvation for man was a personal, vital rela- 
tion to Jesus Christ, entered into by faith; and that in Him 
alone could man find forgiveness of sin, peace with God, 
and a good conscience. 

The ground was somewhat ready for this sort of seed 
in that there was a considerable number of people who had 
come to feel about the State Church, much as the evangelist 
expressed it. Among them were the leaders of these emi- 
grants, Berhaug Rise (or as the name came to be spelled, 
Reese), Halvor Hevle, Iver Sneve and Thore Fossem. A 
revival of religion resulted and there came to- be a con- 
siderable group of people who sought a more vital religion 
than what was manifested in the State Church. Thru wor- 
ship and preaching in private houses, however, they could 
find an open door and they continued this movement. This 
religious movement thus gained more and more adherents, 
so that not only had most of the members of this exodus 
been touched by it but also many more who were left be- 
hind at this time. 

It was a foregone conclusion that these lay preachers, 
especially the above mentioned leaders, would soon find 



31 

themselves marked for persecution by the representatives of 
the established church and also by petty government offi- 
cials who of course stood back of that church organization. 
Then, too, while looking upon the State Church not only 
as dead religiously but also as a positive menace to true 
religion, in that it led people astray, and persecuted those 
who were trying to lead the way back to the teachings of the 
lowly Nazarene, yet they were compelled to give a tithe of 
their principal farm produce toward the upkeep of this 
institution. 

There was much discussion and many clashes between 
the adherents of the old and the new. But as the chasm 
seemed to widen, and the hope of vitalizing the State 
Church from within to lessen, being backed as it was finan- 
cially and otherwise by the whole machinery of the gov- 
ernment, this religious situation and persecution became a 
strong motive for seeking a freer atmosphere. 

Then strongly re-enforcing the religious motive were 
both the general as also some special economic conditions 
at this time, which pressed upon these people. As afore- 
said, the leaders of this movement had been owners of 
small and medium sized farms, but with debts on them. Yet 
under ordinary conditions they could have managed to take 
care of these obligations, as they were long-time loans and 
at low rates of interest. But worse than these larger obli- 
gations was the fact that some of them had somehow fallen 
into the hands of the professional loan sharks and usurers 
of the place. The method of procedure of these parasites 
was to make short time loans, generally becoming due in 
the fall of the year, and taking security in the milch cows 
or grain crop of the small farmers. On the very day of 
maturity they would demand immediate payment or threaten 
foreclosure with its attendant expense and annoyance to the 
borrower. Having bullied and scared their victims into the 
suitable state of mind they would, with hypocritical pre- 
tense of graciousness, offer to compromise by buying the 



32 

mortgaged property, usually milch cows and seed grain, 
themselves, thus saving the expense and disgrace of going 
to law. This was generally accepted and the sale made, but 
of course at the lender's price. Then in the spring the 
farmers had to have cows and seed grain to do any busi- 
ness and usually had to buy both back again from these 
sharks, thus getting into their hands again, and thus the 
vicious circle continued until the poor borrower was finally 
worn out and had to give up the struggle. 

However, the final blow, economically, which brought 
the leaders of our party to the great decision of emigrating, 
was a certain cooperative mercantile enterprise which they 
had helped to form supposedly for the economic benefit of 
the community. This was in the early dawn of the coopera- 
tive movement in Norway, and these people were quick to 
see its economic possibilities, but had not yet learned to 
know and to guard against the many pitfalls which such 
enterprises have to face and avoid if they are to succeed. 
And dearly did they pay for their first lesson. 

The shares of the company were assessable with un- 
limited liabilities on the part of the share holder. Thus, 
of course the business had almost unlimited credit with 
wholesalers. For a time the organization seemed to pros- 
per. After a while, however, suspicion began to form in 
the minds of some that things were not just right. An in- 
vestigation was eventually made. The manager immediate- 
ly disappeared. The government now stepped in and de- 
clared a bankruptcy. The manager, having gotten away be- 
yond recall, the wholesale houses presented bills of all 
kinds and large amounts for goods which the directors felt 
certain had never been received. But with the manager 
absconded the company could not disprove these claims, and 
the court, belonging socially and politically to the big busi- 
ness class, naturally held the scales of justice, socalled, in 
favor of the wholesale creditors. The result was that these 
poor pioneers in the field of economic cooperation found 



33 

themselves liable and their property attached for as much as 
6000% of the face value of their shares. It goes without 
saying that the government officials saw to it that they them- 
selves got their utmost limit out of the general slaughter. 
Berhaug Rise and a couple of other victims appealed to 
the courts against the high handed work of the big business 
concerns, and the petty government officials involved, but 
lost the case, and all that they had was attached and ordered 
sold. 

Finding revealed thru all this procedure the persecution 
both of the civil and the ecclesiastical authorities, and see- 
ing no chance at that point of either religious or economic 
betterment for themselves and their children, they came to 
the great decision to try their fortunes in the far-away land 
of which they had heard many and strange tales. For them, 
as for so many others of every race and tongue, this far- 
away land was the land of their dreams; the land of the 
true where they could live anew; where the song birds dwell; 
the land of promise, and also of fulfillment, of hitherto 
crushed hopes and thwarted aspirations. 

Returning now to follow our party from Trondhjem, 
where we left them, to Yankton, South Dakota, we find 
that the journey was mostly the uneventful, uncomfortable 
one which was the lot of immigrants of forty years ago, or 
early '80's. There was much sea sickness and much loath- 
ing and disgust with the food and accommodations, both 
of such a quality as they had never experienced before. 
Fortunately most of them had food of their own. 

The nearest to any mishap to any of the party fell to 
the lot of the writer of this chronicle, who was a boy of 
six years. It happened in the awful throng and confusion 
of Castle Garden, the old landing place of immigrants at 
New York City. I was committed to the care of a certain 
servant girl of the family, there being four other children 
to be kept track of by father and mother. But in the noise 
and confusion of embarking on certain transports taking 



34 

us to the railway on the main land, she seems to have 
lost her head as well as her charge, and I recall that I 
found myself wandering alone among the vast spaces of 
Castle Garden and the docks. I was crying because of the 
loss of father, mother, and all my friends, and searching 
for them in vain. At length some sort of official discovered 
me and after some questioning he joined me in the search. 
We went out on some boats, I recall, where people were 
embarking, and he inquired everywhere if anyone had lost 
a boy. I recall very vividly how a woman at one place 
claimed me as her very own and how I protested with more 
vehemence than politeness. The official took my view of the 
case. We continued our search and at last we met Father, 
who by this time had discovered my absence and started out 
to search. Needless to say, there was more joy over my 
return than over the four other children who had not 
strayed away. 

Thus the transportation company at length was enabled 
to carry out its contract of delivering the same number of 
heads at Yankton as it took on at Trondhjem. And they did 
it much in the same matter-of-fact and impersonal way as a 
railroad company undertakes to deliver so many head of 
cattle at the stockyards of Chicago. — All the honor to them 
that they deserved! 



CHAPTER VII 
Landing At Yankton And Getting On The Land 

It may be of interest to take a look at the town of Yank- 
ton of forty years ago, where we finally landed. Yankton 
was the terminal of this division of the C. M. & St. P. 
Railway, or, as it was then called, the Dakota Southern. 
It was also the capitol city of Dakota Territory comprising 
the present states of North and South Dakota. Its build- 
ings were mostly small wooden houses, but, as may be sur- 
mised, it commanded a large trade territory, for besides 
being the end of the railway it was touched by a consider- 
able steamboat traffic up and down the river and had con- 
siderable Indian trade, besides that of the adjacent white 
settlements. So it was then the most important city in the 
Dakotas and had been decidedly so before that time. 

Here the immigrants were given a cordial welcome 
and temporary shelter at the home of Mrs. Carrie Sever- 
son, a widow whom they had known from the old country. 
We do not know, of course, how our fathers and mothers 
felt about the enterprise by this time, but to us youngsters, 
who as yet were not loaded with the burdens of life, the 
green grass and the freedom to scamper about seemed good 
after a whole month's confinement in a crowded steerage 
and more crowded railway coaches. 

Next day friends of the party, who had immigrated 
some ten years before, came with teams and wagons to help 
these newer comers to get on the land and make their start 
in the new and, to these people, strange land. For this was 
indeed a very different country from the one they had left 
and even from the picture many of them had had in mind. 



36 

There was much to learn and many disappointments at first 
as we shall see. 

Among the men who undertook to receive this large 
company in their homes and to help them get established in 
homes of their own, and who extended the glad hand of 
welcome that day, should be mentioned these: Stingrim Hin- 
seth, Ingebricht Fagerhaugh, Haldo Saether, John Rye, John 
Aalbu and Halvor Hinseth. These men loaded into their 
lumber wagons the big blue chests and smaller parcels; 
deposited the passengers as best they could and started out 
over the prairie on what was called "The Sioux Falls Trail". 
This trail angled all the way to their homes in Turkey 
Creek, over twenty miles to the northeast. Darkness soon 
overtook the travelers and the following circumstance created 
considerable merriment for the hosts, at least. The new- 
comers observed, as they journeyed on thru the darkness, 
very many gleams of light as it were from innumerable 
human habitations. These points of light were, of course, 
fire flies, so called, or certain phosphorescent bugs which 
at that time were very numerous because of the abundant 
grass prevailing everywhere. At length one of the passen- 
gers remarked in evident astonishment ! "This country must 
be very thickly populated, judging by the many lights we 
see"! When daylight came, however, the lights and most of 
the supposed inhabitants had utterly disappeared. 

It may be of some interest to the new and coming gener- 
ations to take a look at the country around Turkey Creek 
as it greeted the curious gaze of these new comers of forty 
years ago on that first morning of their arrival. Most of 
the friends who brought them out from town and distributed 
them for temporary shelter were settled on the Turkey Creek 
bottom and located about where they or their dwellings 
are now. Farthest north up the valley was John Rye, then 
Halvor Hinseth, next Steingrim Hinseth, I. Fagerhaug, Ole 
Solem and Jens Eggen, in order as named. But back of the 
creek bottom where these earliest homesteaders had located 



37 

was the far stretching open prairie — a sea of waving grass 
— with a lonely dug-out only here and there and vast 
stretches of "no man's land" between. 

There were no regular highways, only some trails wind- 
ing their way over the endless grass, in some general direc- 
tion, but with many crooks and turns to avoid a hill, ravine 
or slough. These sloughs, or small lakes, were very numer- 
ous and of considerable size and depth in those days. There 
is today many a waving field of corn and grain where we 
boys of the first generation of settlers once launched our 
home made boats, hunted ducks, swam and occasionally 
came near drowning. 

The best travelled of the trails in the part of the country 
we are describing was the old territorial trail called the 
Sioux Falls Road. This angled in a north-easterly direc- 
tion all the way from Yankton to Sioux Falls, and many a 
prairie schooner could be seen moving with stately slow- 
ness over this road, not to speak of other vehicles which were 
numerous. As a boy I have seen long caravans of Indians, 
perhaps twenty or thirty teams in a string, trekking over 
this road. When the ruts became too deep, by reason of 
much travel and the action of the water, another trail would 
be made close alongside the old. Thus in places six or 
eight pairs of ruts, made by many wagons and feet, could be 
seen side by side. 

There were no wire fences to mark boundaries between 
farms or to form pastures in those days, and the cattle 
were herded far and wide. The people in the Turkey Creek 
Valley herded as far as Clay Creek. The writer of this, al- 
tho not of the earliest herd boys of the time, and living 
near Turkey Creek, has taken his herd many a day to the 
proximity of Clay Creek with practically open pasture all 
the way. 

I am speaking for many boys and some girls, too, of 
those days, boys and girls who are fathers and mothers now, 
when I say that our pasture fence was Clay Creek on th^ 



38 

west and Turkey Creek on the east. Not that we were not 
free to go farther but that the day was not long enough 
to get any farther and back again the same day. 

There was at this time, when our pilgrims arrived, but 
very little of the ground broken up. What little there was 
broken was mostly on the creek bottom, but scarcely any on 
the upland. And when a little later patches of prairie 
were broken up in order to comply with the homestead law 
requirements for getting title to the land, these patches were 
usually in a draw or low-lying strip between the hills. Thus 
the fields of early days were not laid out with any re- 
ference to north or south, but their direction was deter- 
mined entirely by the hills and valleys. The little breaking 
which was done was done with oxen and sometimes the 
direction of the field to be was determined by the oxen 
themselves more than by the driver. Some wheat, corn and 
oats was raised, but the main dependence of the farmer 
was cattle and milking. 

The dwellings were of three main types. There was the 
dug-out, usually in a side-hill, with a sod roof, a few stud- 
dings and boards being used to support the roof. The walls 
and floor were usually the native earth. The sod house 
was a more advanced and perhaps more stylish dwelling. 
Closely related to the sod house was the mud house where 
the walls, about two or three feet thick, were made of well 
tramped mud and straw. These mud houses were at times 
whitewashed and were both comfortable and sightly. As 
for comfort in the cold winter the dug-out and sod house 
were not so bad when properly built. But do not imagine 
that they were equal to your furnace-heated, modern house. 
They were, after all, a temporary hole in the ground to 
preserve life until houses could be had. A house made of 
lumber was a luxury which many an early settler had to 
look forward to for many a hard, long year, and often he 
had to die in the dug-out or sod shanty. Finally, there was 
the story-and-a-half frame house of two or three rooms 



39 

with a possible lean-to. This type of house put one in 
the class of the most well-to-do; and such a habitation was 
the hope and dream of years for many a pilgrim mother 
of those days. 

We have turned aside from our main narrative for a 
look at the country as it appeared to our band of pilgrims 
as they looked about them on that first morning of their 
arrival in the Turkey Creek Valley. And the view was not 
all that they had hoped for. What could these men — farm- 
ers and men of trades — do in this howling wilderness of 
grass, grass and nothing but grass? Yes, there was some- 
thing else — mosquitoes — and oh, how they stung! Also flies, 
and how incessantly and mercilessly they attacked the fair 
soft skin of these pilgrims from the Norseland! Finally, 
there was the heat, which literally took the fair skin off 
their faces in flakes and put on a tan which made them 
almost unrecognizable. 

Moreover, what could these shoemakers, masons, paint- 
ers or even farmers do here? Shoes were bought; houses 
were of sod or earth and needed no paint; years would be 
required to make cultivated fields out of this sea of grass, 
and meanwhile they and their families must somehow live. 

The kind hosts did all they could to encourage and make 
comfortable the newcomers, sharing with them what ac- 
commodations they had. But we must remember that these 
first comers had not been here long themselves. The dwel- 
lings were small, without cooling porches, and in summer 
necessarily hot, and they had no screens to protect the in- 
mates from the blood-thirsty fly and mosquito. So there 
was but little rest or comfort by day or night, especially 
for those unused to these conditions. This together with 
the unaccustomed food, which at first completely upset 
them, made some of the newcomers very discouraged with 
the new country. 

One of these "blue" ones said to Father soon after 
their arrival: "Do you suppose you will ever get your 



40 

money back which you loaned us for our passage?" 
"That," replied father, "I do not know. But this I do 
know, that now I have no money either to take myself or 
any of you back again." "Then," rejoined the first one, 
"if now I could stand on the highway where we started, 
even with nothing but a shirt on my back, I should be the 
happiest man alive." Another said: "There is not even 
grass here such as one can cut with a scythe and, as for 
land I shall have none of it." And in his case it became 
so. He never homesteaded and later worked at his trade 
in Yankton and Sioux City, where he died many years later. 

Father tried to take a brighter view and to cheer those 
complaining ones and said to Iver Sneve, who had just 
expressed the wish to be back on the old sod: "In three 
years you will be butchering your own pork, raised on your 
farm in this new land." Then Iver broke out into his char- 
acteristically loud, uproarious laughter, full of increduli- 
ty and almost scorn, and said : "Berhaug Rise, I have up till 
this time considered you a man of sense and good judg- 
ment, but now I am compelled to believe that your mind's 
eye is shimmering. I cannot even keep alive for three years 
in this man-consuming wilderness. Unless some one takes 
pity on me and helps me to return home, the flies and 
mosquitoes alone will have finished me before that time. 
Oh, that some of us older men could have had sense 
enough to return even when we were as far as England," he 
added. This is a sample of many conversations, and these 
expressions were by no means uttered as jokes either. Never- 
theless, this Iver Sneve lived some 35 years after this con- 
versation and was worth $25,000.00 when he died. 

However, these people were here and, with all bridges 
burned behind them, they realized that mere lamentations 
would not meet the situation. Something must be done to 
live and to keep their families, here or in the old country, 
as was the case with some, alive. So in a few days a party 
of the younger men set out afoot toward the present site 



41 

of Parker to seek work on the railroad which was just 
being extended from that point westward toward Mitchell. 
They found work with shovel and pick. But ten hours a 
day, in the hot sun and with an Irish boss over them to 
see that these implements kept constantly moving, was no 
soft initiation for these fair skinned men just out of a 
much colder climate. However, with true Norse and immi- 
grant grit they "stuck it out" and earned a little money 
before the first winter of 1880 — 1 came on. 

Berhaug Rise and Halvor Hevle, by the help of the good 
neighbors, got some lumber hauled from Vermilion, the 
latter for a dug-out and the former for a frame house 14 
xl6 and 12 feet high. This house was built by John Rye 
and is still standing in the old homestead after nearly 
forty years. In this house made of one thickness of drop 
siding and paper, we spent the terrible snow winter of 
80-81. It was the winter of the great blizzard which 
came in the middle of October. And the deep snow never 
left until nearly the middle of April, when the big flood 
of 1881 resulted. Luckily Father had filed without ever 
seeing it, as also Grandma, on some land traversed by 
deep ravines. There had been heavy hardwood timber in 
these ravines, but it was now cut, with nothing left but 
young shoots — brush — and great stumps, some 4 — 6 feet 
in diameter. These stumps formed the winter's fuel, as 
also most of the winter's work. With such a house it 
became necessary to keep the stove about red hot in cold 
weather to have any comfort and, of course, everything 
froze solid during the nights. But if it had not been 
for the old oaken stumps and the warm woolen clothes 
we had brought with us, it is hard to see how we could 
have survived that first winter. Much better off, as far as 
the cold was concerned, were those who had a good dug- 
out. But by a sort of special dispensation of providence 
there was no sickness requiring a doctor in our family or in 
the neighborhood. And this was well, for doctors were far 



42 

away and expensive to get. We children waded and coasted 
in the deep snow, getting hands and feet thoroly wet, but 
never had a better time in our lives, as far as I can recall. 
There was yet no public school in that neighborhood, so 
there was lots of time for play — mostly coasting down the 
surrounding hillsides. 

A word ought also to be said about the outbuildings, 
if we may call them such, for they were typical of what 
many others had. The stable, for three cows and two 
ponies, was an excavation in the side hill. The hill formed 
the full wall on the upper side and part of the wall on the 
other sides, the rest being filled in with straw, hay or sod. 
Over these walls was thrown brush with a little frame work 
of supports underneath, and then the whole was covered 
with hay or straw. For a door, in our case. Father took a 
bush, covered with an entanglement of grape vines, set 
it in the doorway and piled hay against it. This last, 
however, was an emergency measure as the notorious blizz- 
ard of 1880 above referred to, broke upon us before the 
structure was quite finished. But as there were many 
emergency appliances in those days, of every kind, this one 
was nothing out of the ordinary. 

The place where the two pigs were kept was built on 
the same plan, only that it was divided into two stories 
— the chickens having roosts over the pigs. But this com- 
bination did not prove a success, for whenever the chickens 
fell down or ventured down to their room mates below, 
they were eaten up by the pigs. 

Perhaps a word should also be said about two of the 
inmates of the stable, for they also were common types 
of those and even much later times. These were two 
Texas ponies which Father and Halvor Hevle had purchased 
out of a herd driven to Yankton. After picking their 
choices out of the herd in a large corral, and paying $20.00 
apiece for their choices, the men in charge lassoed the 
§inimals and turned them over to the new owners, at the 



43 

end of a fairly long new rope. It was well that the ropes 
were new and fairly long, for it took three days of both 
brave and skilled maneuvering to get these wild animals 
of the plains to the home of their new masters. And the 
masters were certainly tired and not over-enthusiastic over 
their new horse power when they at last arrived. Matters 
were not so serene as could be wished while these little 
savages were being picketed outside. But when winter 
came and the animals which had never known any roof 
lower than the blue sky, nor walls more confining than the 
far-flung horizon, were to be quartered in a hole in the 
ground, real excitement began. Whenever any one ven- 
tured into the stable he would no sooner open the door 
than he would see these creatures on their haunches try- 
ing to jump thru the roof, which feat they almost suc- 
ceeded in accomplishing. At first it was a problem how to 
get near enough to tend to them. The hay could be poked 
down the roof to where their heads ought to be, but the 
water was not so easy. In spite of precaution they "got 
the drop" on Father once I recall, and he was in bed for 
some time, but lucky to escape with his life. It should 
be said to their credit, however, that by the help of Lars 
Almen, above referred to, they were in due time subdued 
and served many years, and faithfully, according to their 
size and strength, with only an occasional runaway. These 
wild horses filled a useful place in the needs of these scat- 
tered beginners far from each other and from towns. But 
it was after all the ox who really helped subdue the soil 
and lay the foundations for farming and prosperity in 
general. But for the people we are now describing real 
farming had not yet begun, so more of that a little later. 



CHAPTER VIII 
The Pioneer Mothers And Their Part In The Struggle 

What we have said of the pioneers so far has reflected 
for the most part what the pioneer fathers said, did or 
thought. If any one should get the impression from this 
seemingly one-sided treatment that pioneer mothers bore 
any lesser part of the burdens and sacrifices incident to leav- 
ing the land of their birth, and beginning all over again 
the long struggle of re-establishing themselves, and that, 
too, on the bare prairie where there was absolutely nothing 
to begin with, such a one has been greatly misled. While 
the work, not to speak of the privations and feelings of our 
mothers, is more diificult to record on paper, it is not one 
whit less real or deserving of any less appreciation. We 
can only give a few outlines picturing their part of the 
life. Yet if any one has a little imagination he can easily 
fill in the picture with its various tints and shades. The 
shadows were often both deep and tragic. 

For a woman, even more than for a man, the social 
ties of life mean a great deal. Our mothers left their home 
relations, kindred and neighbors close around them, to be 
set down on a lonely prairie, cut off from all the dear 
relationships of childhood and womanhood. Even where 
there were neighbors, or soon came to be, they were at first 
strangers and often spoke a strange tongue. So for them 
there were many long days and weary years of isolation 
and heart hunger for those whom they had known and loved 
long ago, but now could never again see. 

Then, too, they had left homes, some of them very 
comfortable homes, where they had always had the neces- 



45 

sary equipment for ordinary housekeeping. Here for years 
they had to do with little and in many lines nothing. The 
average newcomer's larder from which our mothers had to 
get the materials for three meals a day was generally 
confined to these articles: Corn meal with more or less 
of wheat flour, often less, and not seldom none at all; fat 
salt pork, at least part of the time; milk in considerable 
quantity both for cooking, drinking in place of tea or cof- 
fee and for making a number of dishes made almost ex- 
clusively from milk. Butter they generally had, but as that 
was about the only thing they had to sell it had to be con- 
served and lard or a mixture of lard and molasses used 
instead. There were eggs, or came to be, but while used 
more or less, they, too, had to go toward getting such few 
groceries as could be afforded. These were coffee, sugar, 
a little kerosene for one small lamp, ^nd last, but, for 
many of the men, not least — tobacco. Now let no pink 
tea scion or descendant of these men who had to be the 
breaking plows of our new state, hold up lilly fingered hands 
of horror at this last and often not least item in the 
grocery list of that day. For if you are a man child of 
this stock and you had been there and then, with all the 
physical discomforts of the climate, lack of suitable clothes 
and food, not to speak of the frequently loathsome drinking 
water, you might have felt justified in the use of a nerve 
sedative too. It shall be said to their credit, too, that 
while most of the men of that day used the weed, few of 
them used it in such beastly excess as is often seen today. 
But rightly or wrongly, they thought they had to have it. 
Thus Lars Almen, when he arrived at Yankton, had 50 cents 
in money left. He started to invest that last mite of the 
family resources in tobacco. His wife remonstrated, say- 
ing it would be more fitting to get a few provisions such 
as they could all partake of. The ever undaunted Lars 
replied: "If I have tobacco I know I can do something or 
other to make us a living, but if I have no tobacco I can do 



46 

nothing". So he bought tobacco, and he also made good 
on the "living." Forgetting, then, the last named item in on 
the list of staple provisions, we find that salt pork, usually 
fried, corn meal in some form, such as mush or bread, 
more or less of wheat flour and milk or some dish made 
out of milk in whole or part, were the resources out of 
which our pioneer mothers had to provide three palatable 
meals a day, summer and winter. This is not saying that 
these materials were always abundant, but rather that it 
was these or nothing. There were, of course, special occa- 
sions when a little pastry in the shape of home made 
cookies or fried cakes was on the table, but cake and pie 
and such like luxuries were not often seen the first years. 
The fuel with which to prepare this food was, for most 
of them, hay, or in summer cow chips, and later on, when 
they began to raise corn, com cobs. But hay was the prin- 
cipal fuel, and huge piles of it were required to do much 
cooking or for heating. For, as can be readily seen, one 
had to keep stuffing it into the stove almost continually to 
get any hot fire. Picture to yourself then a room — sod 
house, dugout or a frame house about 12x14 which was 
kitchen, sitting room, bedroom, and everything else com- 
bined. The hay, as was the case in winter time, would 
cover a large part of the floor and, of course, raise con- 
tinual dust. The stove would get full of ashes in a short 
time, and if the hay was damp would, of course, smoke 
more or less. In such a place, with such conveniences 
and out of such materials, our pioneer mothers had to solve 
the problem of three meals a day and do all their other 
work besides. In summer, of course, it was not quite so 
bad, as they usually had a lean to or cook shanty of some 
sort, for use in warm weather. Is it strange that many of 
these women who came to find a new and, as they sup- 
posed, a better home, found instead an early grave, and 
what was worse, some even lost their minds? The men 
could get away, at least to be outdoors a part of the time, 



47 

but the women had to live and move and have their whole 
being in these surroundings and conditions. So let us not 
fail to speak the word of appreciation to those of them who 
are still living or to cherish the memory of those who have 
made their final pilgrimage. So let there be flowers and 
kind words for the living and flowers and tears for the 
dead. For our pioneer mothers gave more for us than we 
can ever know. 



\ 



CHAPTER IX 

Indians As Occasional Guests And Visitors 

While still speaking of life and conditions in the Tur- 
key Creek Valley and surrounding country as it was during 
the winter of eighty and eighty one, and even later, I ought 
to mention our occasional Indian visitors. They used to 
travel thru that country in considerable numbers at that 
time over the Sioux Falls road already mentioned. As a 
boy I have seen possibly twenty or thirty teams in a single 
procession. They sometimes camped near the brush border- 
ing the ravine which was close by our house. The women 
would excavate the snow, sometimes several feet deep, and 
pitch the tepees, while the children scampered around them 
on the snow bank. The following incident may not be out 
of place as showing the heartaches and difficulties for the 
Indian incident to his transition from the free life of the 
plains to that of civilization. One day an Indian family 
consisting of a man and wife with some children, as also 
an old squaw which was evidently the grandmother of 
the children, camped near our house. The man and the 
younger squaw were trying to boil their kettle in the camp 
fire while the old squaw went out into the adjoining 
gulches, presumably to dig roots or hunt. The pot did not 
boil very fast and Father, by signs, invited them to come 
into the house and boil their pot. They seemed perfectly 
willing to do this, and coming inside they sat around our 
fire with the pot on the stove. But in a little while the 
old squaw returned, and not seeing her children by the fire 
where all good Indians would be supposed to be, she sus- 
pected something wrong and came into the house where 



49 

she found her degenerate offspring located as above de- 
scribed. We could not, of course, understand the words 
she said, but we could easily make out that she was not 
complimenting them any on their new-found quarters, for 
the language was very emphatic and her face stern. She 
also got some immediate action. Having scolded them 
soundly for forsaking the firesides and ways of their 
fathers to enter the lodges of the palefaces, she snatched 
the kettle from the stove and walked out followed by the 
now chastened son and daughter with their children. 

We had many visits from the Indians and they never 
did us any harm. However, I suspect that they were more 
welcome to us youngsters than to our mothers who never 
seemed quite at ease with them. 

Most of those who came thru the country at that time 
had wagons. But some used the travaux, consisting of two 
rails lashed to the saddle of the pony, one on each side, 
and crosspieces behind the horse with blankets or skins 
covering. The ends of the rails, of course, slid on the 
ground. On this rude contrivance the Indian loaded his 
few belongings, sometimes the squaw and children, and 
journeyed over the country. 



CHAPTER X 

The Great Snow Winter of 1880-1 and the Great 
Flood Of 1881 — Building A Boat 

We have already referred to this winter of 80 — 81 as the 
terrible snow winter. May we add a few words on that in 
order to understand what followed in the spring. 

The snow, a three days' snow storm or blizzard, came 
on October 15th, and the snow never left, but kept piling 
up without thawing out to any extent until April. Railroad 
connection with the outer world, as far as the few towns 
in the state were concerned, was cut off, completely in many 
instances, after the 1st of January. This, of course, made 
coal as well as other provisions unobtainable in many 
cases. The people in some towns, as for instance Water- 
town, had to take what they could find to preserve life. 
So many empty buildings and other property made of 
wood were taken for fuel. 

In the outlying country places the settlers could not get 
to them, even when some provisions were available. In not 
a few cases, too, there was nothing to sell and no money 
for buying. So barred by one or all of the circum- 
stances, the settlers had to get along and try to preserve 
life as best they could. As for the few groceries which 
they might ordinarily have used, they dispensed even with 
them for the most part. Many lived on corn meal, ground 
on the coffee mill. But there was one privation which for 
many proved the "unkindest cut of all" — tobacco. Many 
and sore were the lamentations because of the lack of this 
one commodity and many the devices to get it. A man can 



61 

live without coffee, sugar and wheat-bread, not to speak 
of less necessary things, but tobacco — well, you can't do 
anything more to him after that. 

As can easily be seen, when this vast quantity of snow 
began to go out, especially going out so late in the spring, 
it created a flood. Every creek became a raging river, the 
rivers became more like vast moving lakes. So if communi- 
cation with towns had been difficult before it became well 
nigh impossible now. The whole Missouri bottom, for in- 
stance, became one vast and roaring sea, coming up to the 
bluff's of the present Mission Hill and Volin. But yet, can 
such a little thing as fourteen miles of roaring water and 
floating debris stand between a man and his tobacco, or a 
woman and her cup of coff"ee, especially when the latter is 
the only thing approaching a luxury that she has? No! 
By the shades of all our Viking ancestors. No! After look- 
ing over their possible resources of men and materials for 
the undertaking of defying the angry flood, they found that 
Ole Solem, who then lived on Turkey Creek, had a few rem- 
nants of lumber. They also found that Anders Oien had 
had a little experience in boat building, and Ole Johnson 
was an ex-fisherman and thus could row a boat if they had 
one. So with the help of those mentioned and others, 
such as Ingebricht Fagerhaug, who was a carpenter, and 
Steingrim Hinseth, the boat was built. It was crude, of 
course, and leaky, yet counted seaworthy because the situa- 
tion was getting desperate. It should be said in fairness 
that mere personal and private needs were not the only 
motive with these men. For instance, some of the lead- 
ers of this enterprise, like Solem and Fagerhaug, had no 
need or use for tobacco, but needing other things and realiz- 
ing the general needs they joined with heart and hand. 

When the craft was finished Steingrim Hinseth hauled 
the boat and the men, Ole Solem, Ingebricht Fagerhaug, 
Thore Fossem and, I believe, Ole Johnson, to the foot of the 
bluff's, a couple of miles northwest of Volin, where the boat 



52 

was launched. The cargo was all that the little craft could 
carry, consisting of very many different parcels of butter 
and some eggs. These, belonging to many different parties 
.and being the only things they had to sell, were to be 
exchanged for a few necessities such as mentioned above. 
When the cargo was all in and the crew embarked there 
was about two inches left of the boat above the water 
line and the boat a little leaky besides. But with true Vi- 
king spirit they struck out over the twelve or fourteen miles 
of angry flood towards Yankton. There they were able 
tc do the necessary shopping for the whole neighborhood, 
and in three days from the time of starting they were back 
without mishap and all errands carried out. It goes without 
saying that they were welcomed by the many expectant 
ones in the whole neighborhood and that there was great 
rejoicing on the part of both men and women, for the 
women got their coffee and the men got — well — whatever 
was coming to them. 



CHAPTER XI 
Beginning Their Real Struggle With The Earth 

The long and memorable winter of '80 — '81 had at 
last come to an end. The resulting flood, too, as in the 
time of Noah, at length subsided, and now our new comers 
must begin their first real struggle with the earth in the new 
land. Without tools or draught animals, and even any 
knowledge of farming conditions on this new soil, and 
without means to buy tools, this struggle became for many 
both hard and prolonged. They had had during the winter 
their baptism in self-denial and privation. They were 
now to learn further that while the new land might pos- 
sibly flow with milk and honey, yet if it was to flow for 
them, they would have to do the milking and gather the 
honey. 

As an illustration of how the struggle in subduing 
the soil began for these people, may I again refer to my 
Father as an illustration of many others. I refer to him 
merely because I can recall these circumstances better in 
his case than in that of others and, also because the ex- 
periences of others were similar and in many cases much 
worse. 

He had hired a man to break five acres the first sum- 
mer. This was an ordinary amount of plow land, largely 
because the government required this much to be broken 
in order to comply with the homestead regulations. During 
the winter he had made a small harrow and in the spring 
sowed most of this ground to wheat and tried the best he 
could to harrow it with the ponies already mentioned. The 
year was not very favorable, as I can recall it, and with 



54 

such equipment the results can be surmised. I do not recall 
just what they were, but I am quite sure we did not eat 
much wheat flour the following winter. He had one acre 
of corn, which he worked with the hoe. He bought, like 
most of the others, or, rather went into debt for, a pair of 
steers that spring. These he, with the help of Lars Almen, 
who worked together with him, as also Halvor Hevle, tried 
to "break" for work purposes. These animals proved them- 
selves notoriously stubborn and fractious and made their 
drivers earn most of what they got out of them in the 
way of work. This, however, may have been due to the in- 
experience of the drivers. For, as already said, the ox, 
next to the cow, was the beginner's best friend, and with- 
out him it is hard to see how the pioneers could have gotten 
along at all. To be sure, some of these animals did not 
take kindly to the yoke and many were the scrapes they got 
their owners into, running away and breaking up both 
wagons and tools. Yet when you consider the lot of the ox 
you cannot be too hard on him for his occasional bad 
humor. As a boy I have driven him many a day, and 
often lost my patience with him, for which I now humbly 
apologize. We worked him on the plow, both stubble and 
breaking plow, drag, stoneboat and the heaviest work that 
was to be done. At noon or night we unyoked him and let 
him go to get a little grass or hay for himself. No oats 
for him, only the long kind you administer with a whip; 
no thanks to him when the long, hot day of pulling a break- 
ing plow at last is done, but very likely a parting kick. 
We have not given the ox his well-earned place among the 
foundation builders of our land, and I propose that even 
at this late date we should repent and build in South Da- 
kota a monument to the ox, our early, faithful ^nd in- 
dispensable friend. 

The first few years after arriving were required by our 
pioneers for making temporary shelters for themselves and 
their few animals; also in providing some way of obtain- 



55 

ing the bare necessities of life while they could lay the 
foundations for a larger prosperity and more comforts. As 
already indicated, the first resource and dependence for 
getting a little money was eggs, butter and hay. These 
commodities were sold to get the few groceries and small 
necessities which they could not well do without. Some 
of the men worked out to supplement their meager income. 

By 1885, roughly speaking, these hardy men really be- 
gan to wrestle with the soil in earnest and thus make pos- 
sible something more than a bare existence. From about 
'83 to '90 a picturesque and ever recurring scene, when 
spring and early summer came, was the breaking rig mov- 
ing slowly but majestically over the long furrows. There 
were from four to six oxen to each plow and most generally 
it took two men to hold the plow and keep the oxen in the 
straight and narrow way. The country I am describing was 
very stony and there was many a hard lift and aching back 
before these stones could be pried out of the ground and 
hauled away sufficiently to make breaking possible. Even 
after spending many weeks at this clearing work there would 
still be many stones left which the plow would strike with 
such violence as to almost fell the man at the handles. With 
the plow out of the ground and the load suddenly lighten- 
ing the oxen would make the most of this relief by start- 
ing on a trot so that often the plow could not be gotten 
back into the sod for a rod or two. Two neighbors would 
often go in together in breaking, each furnishing one yoke 
of oxen. 

This sod would be put into corn or flax the first seas^)n 
and the next into wheat. The returns were generally quite 
meager compared with what that ground is producing now. 
But even a little meant much then. Drought was the prin- 
cipal drawback. Then, too, these early beginners did not 
have the modern machinery either for putting in, harvest- 
ing or threshing grain, and this fact was also a large cause 
for small yields. However, they kept on breaking up a 



56 

little more each year, and after a few years the ground 
was subdued enough to begin to raise corn and consequently 
hogs. The beef cattle as a source of income had been good 
earlier, but the price of cattle went so low during this 
period that there was not much inducement. Then, too, 
as the country came to be settled and broken there was 
less possibility of keeping herds of cattle. I recall that 
during this depression in the latter eighties good milch 
cows sold for $10.00 — $15.00 and other cattle in proportion. 
Of course, in the panic or notorious depression of 93 — 4, 
even grain and hogs went down with everything else. Corn 
was sold for eight cents per bushel and wheat as low as 
35 — 40 cents. But generally speaking, in the period we are 
describing, when these path-finders were laying the founda- 
tions for permanent homes and farm equipment, corn and 
hogs became their corner stone of prosperity, with milk and 
butter a close second. 

There arose an industry in the latter '90's which came 
to be of considerable economic importance — the cream- 
ery. These men at first located a considerable distance 
away and the cream had to be transported in hired wagons. 
Some of these creameries "failed" and left the farmers 
to whistle for their long expected and much needed cream 
checks. Later a co-operative creamery was organized and 
successfully operated by Sven Vognild on the S. Hinseth 
place. This was the first real co-operative enterprise in 
the vicinity. 

Returning to early farm conditions, we find that for 
several years many of the new settlers did not have enough 
grain to have a threshmachine on the place, but hauled what 
little they might have to some nearby machine. 

As can be seen, there was not much grain to be sold 
for some time for these farmers. Butter and eggs, and, a 
little later, cattle, were the chief products which could 
bring a little ready money. To this should be added hay, 
which many hauled to Yankton with oxen, getting $2.50 — 



57 

$3.00 per ton. Even at this price, and with such slow trans- 
portation, this hay traffic was for many the chief source 
of any money, and some spent most of the fall and winter 
months at this work when travel was possible. 



CHAPTER XII 

A Bird's Eye View of the Country as it Appeared 
In 1880— 3 

We ought, at this point, to make a visit around the neigh- 
borhood as it appeared from '81 — '83 and even much later. 
Beginning in the Turkey Creek Valley, we have already in- 
dicated the half dozen families which had located there 
in the early seventies. As we have spoken in another 
chapter of this earlier wave of pioneer immigrants, I shall 
pass them by now as also those of that same group who had 
settled to the south, toward what is now Volin. 

Berhaug Rise moved his living house from where it 
was first placed, viz., one quarter mile west of Ole Solem's, 
to about one mile west, that is, from the creek bottom at 
the junction of the ravines which traversed the place from 
east to west, to the higher land at the head of these ravines. 

To the southwest of our place, about a mile distant, 
was John Johnson, who had settled there in '74 and lived in 
a log house. To the west one mile was Ole Johnson, who 
had filed in '79 and was living in a dugout with his family. 
Another mile or so still farther southwest was Peter Moen, 
also living in a dugout and having a considerable family. 
Then going back to Ole Johnson and going north were Peter 
Johnson, Jonas Vaabeno, Ole Liabo, and John Moene. To 
the east of Peter Johnson there was in 1880 a man by 
the name of Roser who, however, left about that time. All 
of these, as far as I remember, lived in dugouts, with the 
exception of the first named, who lived in a loghouse. 

Going from five to six miles to the northwest of this 
Turkey Creek settlement, we find another group of pio- 



59 

neers, some of whom had come before 1880 and others a 
little later. We can mention a few. There was Cornelius 
Nilsen, Albert Boe, Peter, Albert, and 0. 0. Gorseth; 0. 
Lokken; Steen Bakke, Mrs. Mary Boe, the Simonson 
Brothers — Halvor and Ole. Also Asle Mikkelson. There 
may have been others, but these comprise practically all 
who were there at that time. The sons and daughters of 
many of these are either on the old places or in the vicinity 
to this day. Of course, some have moved away to other 
parts. Most of these pioneers are still living, but no longer 
in the dug-outs. 

Going west to what was called the West Prairie, about 
six miles, could be found H. Hagen, the Gustads, Stoems, 
Skaaness and others. These had come in the earlier wave of 
immigration which we have mentioned already, i. e. in the 
early '70's or later '60's. 

Going back to our starting point near Turkey Creek 
and going south, after passing John Johnson already men- 
tioned, we find next the Lawrence place, now owned by Mr. 
Axlund; then Hans Dahl, followed in order by Haldo 
Sether, Ole Bjerke, Lars Aaen and the Hoxeng Brothers, 
both of them then living on the old home place now oc- 
cupied by Thore Hoxeng. There were, of course, others scat- 
tered on either side of this line of settlers, but these were a 
sort of land marks in the early eighties. 

Finally, going some eight miles north from our starting 
point, we find these: Thore Fossem and Iver Sneve of our 
original party and a few others like Ole Brunswick, Inge- 
bricht Saatrum and John Rye, whom we have already men- 
tioned, and J. Larsen. The next to the last named and a few 
others had settled in that vicinity before 1880. Here should 
also be mentioned the Durums, Baks, Snoens, Ressels, 
Grudts, and Lees. The old homesteaders of this group too, 
have for the most part found a last resting place in the 
neighborhood cemetery. Their children, however, are in 
most cases to be found on the old place or near by. 



60 

I am conscious that this rough sketch of our neighbors 
and neighboring settlements of 1880 — '1 is far from com- 
plete. Yet it gives a fair idea of the population over the 
prairie there at that time. There were magnificent distances 
between neighbors and settlements. Yet there was often 
more neighborliness and sociability than in later years. We 
needed each other then, in fact could not well get along 
without helping and being helped in various ways by one 
another. Now we can help ourselves or rather think we 
can. But really we cannot, and if we of the newer genera- 
tions lose the old neighborliness we shall be poorer and un- 
happier in our steam heated, electric lighted houses and 
swift speeding automobiles than they were with their earth 
cellars and ox teams and lumber wagons. So let us cherish 
and keep alive the old neighborly kindness and great- 
hearted hospitality. Practically all these early settlers at 
first lived in a one-room dwelling, seldom over 12x14 or 16, 
and this dwelling was in most cases a dugout. Yet in spite 
of this fact and of having large families of their own to 
accommodate, the traveler or stranger was not turned out 
into the night, and the visitor was always welcomed. There 
was always room, not merely for one more but for half a 
dozen more if necessary. There never was any lack of room 
then. In honor of this splendid trait of our pioneer fathers 
and mothers, let us reserve a room in our big house and, 
better still, in our hearts, for the occasional stranger or 
friend, and in doing so we too shall find that while we may 
not always have "entertained angels unawares", yet by doing 
so the angels have somehow entertained us more than they 
otherwise could. 



CHAPTER XIII 

The Annual Prairie Fires — ^The Terror Of The 
Settlers 

During this decade of getting the ground ready and 
gradually getting an equipment for real farming there was 
one great enemy which was a continual menace and terror 
to the homesteaders — the semi-annual burning of the prairie. 
From times immemorial, before the White settler came, the 
prairie fire had stalked in majestic splendor over the vast 
and boundless sea of grass, covering this and adjoining 
states, licking up with his red and cruel tongue everything 
before him and leaving a barren desolation behind him. 
Sometimes set by the lightning, or Indians, or the campfire 
of the early explorer or trader, this fire, driven by the 
wind, would meander back and forth over the prairie for 
days and weeks until rain or a considerable stream might 
at last stay his stride. 

With the first influx of the settler the fire menace great- 
ly multiplied, for not understanding the nature of this 
menace, they themselves unintentionally set many of these 
fires. Thus there came to be a fairly certain expectation on 
the part of the homesteaders of a visit from this monster 
twice a year — spring and fall — unless he made a clean 
sweep in the fall, which was not generally the case. 

As a boy I recall waking up at night and seeing a strange 
glare against the window, and upon looking out, I saw a 
great wave of fire, a moving wall of flame, pass by our 
house and going on to the south. 

Let me give a brief sketch of one of these fires, well 
remembered by the old settlers and reported to me by H. 



62 

B. Reese, who was then old enough to be out with the men 
on the fire fighting line. I give it largely in his own 
words. 

It was Good Friday, 1887. In the morning we noticed 
smoke in the northwest. There was also a strong wind 
from that direction. There had just previously been several 
days of wind as also sunshine, so everything was dry as 
tinder. We knew at once what the black flag, hoisted to the 
sky in the northwest meant. It meant a challenge from the 
Fire King to come out and fight for our own and our neigh- 
bors' homes - — buildings, stock and everything we had that 
could burn. We hurriedly got our weapons of sacks and 
water ready and started out to meet the giant and offer 
him all the resistance we could. But our antagonist was 
terribly swift as well as strong, and when we reached Jonas 
Vaabeno's place, three miles to the northwest, he had al- 
ready done his terrible work, making a clean sweep of all 
out-buildings, mostly made of hay or straw, as also of the 
dugout which served for a dwelling. Where the stable had 
stood were the remnants of some half -burnt cattle. We hur- 
ried on to Peter Johnson's, but the Fire Demon was victor- 
ious and took everything except the dugout dwelling. The 
same fate was dealt out to Ole Liabo farther north. We were 
now driven back on our own home premises, and after des- 
perate eff^orts we saved our buildings, but, of course, had to 
surrender everything not on the premises where the build- 
ings were, such as trees, hay, etc. When night came and we 
could return to the house we just threw ourselves flat on the 
floor completely exhausted, not having tasted food during 
the whole day. 

Next day, looking out over the country to the northwest, 
we could see very little except a vast desolation — ^how far 
no one seemed to know — of blackened prairie, dotted with 
many ashpiles which in many cases, as tho they were tomb- 
stones, marked the graves of all the settlers' material pos- 
sessions except the land and a few cattle. It is a puzzle to 



63 

know how they managed to keep these cattle with the 
prairie burned off, but they did. Not only that, but tho 
sorely tried, yet not broken in will or spirit, they borrowed 
money, even at outrageous interest rates, rebuilt their tem- 
porary shelters and began the struggle once more from the 
bottom up. 

The last and most terrible of all the fires, as far as 
known, swept over that country only two years later, 1889. 
As the writer of this was old enough to be an active partic- 
ipant in connection with this, I recall it vividly. The day 
was in early spring and began very hazy with so much 
smoke in the atmosphere that one could not see much be- 
yond half a mile. There was a strong wind from the north- 
west, such as was common in spring in those days, and the 
prairie grass was thoroly dried out and very abundant. 
This condition, however, was not unusual in the spring of 
the year. On coming out after dinner I noticed that the 
haze or smoke seemed thicker toward the northwest than in 
other directions. On looking more closely I soon saw whirls 
of smoke rolling up toward the sky. I immediately gave the 
alarm, and every one at the house, including mother, rushed 
out to meet the foe. We did not have to go far before 
we met him, and so swiftly did he come that in our hasty 
retreat toward the house Mother was very nearly overcome 
by the smoke and heat. Fortunately there was a piece of 
plowed ground near by where she was able to find safety 
and lie down until sufficiently recovered to go on to the 
house. Then we all took our stand, some hauling water, 
others fighting at the front. There was a strip of plowed 
ground, or fire break, around the place, but the terrific wind 
continually threatened to carry the fire across, now at one 
point, now at another. Moreover, some barn manure had 
been spread on this plow land, and this, taking fire and 
blowing everywhere in the terrific wind, made our situation 
quite desperate for a while. However, we at last won to the 
extent of saving the buildings. This fire, together with the 



64 

one which raged next day, when the wind was still more 
terrific, did enormous damage, burning out, in part or whole, 
even some of the older settlers, such as James Hoxeng and 
others. The town of Volin was almost completely destroyed. 
Some who had suffered loss in the previous fire were again 
burned out in part or whole, and the grass, as was the case 
after such a fire, was damaged for years to come. Many 
are the stories of narrow escapes in saving their homes 
and even their lives told by the old timers in connection with 
these fires. Sometimes there would be a whole company of 
women and children out on the middle of a plowed field, 
having fled there as the only refuge. 

In every new country the Fire King, as tho endowed 
with a dramatic instinct, seems to end his performances with 
R grand climax. So here this was the last prairie fire of any 
consequence in that part of the country. King Corn from 
now on began to reign and the Fire King had to abdicate his 
immemorial sway and boundless dominions. 



CHAPTER XIV 

The Great Blizzard Of 1888 

Even at the risk of seeming to chronicle too many of the 
hardships and afflictions of those times, I feel that I can- 
not leave this decade of our pioneer life without referring 
to the great blizzard of Jan. 12th, '88, for that, too, is a land- 
mark and one which brings sad memories to many a South 
Dakotan of those years. The writer was merely a young 
boy then, yet the experience of that storm is very vivid in 
my mind. 

The day opened bright and very mild, almost thawing, 
with no premonition that it held in store untold suffering, 
terror and death to man and beast, such as no other day has 
held for South Dakota. There was considerable loose snow 
on the ground, but the day being exceptionally pleasant up 
till noon and after, men were out on their various errands 
of going to town, hauling hay or other out-door occupations. 
The cattle, too, taking advantage of the mild day, were in 
the corn stalks and generally had scattered out some dis- 
tance from the buildings. It being shortly after noon when 
the storm struck, many cattle were being taken to water, 
which in those days was often a considerable distance from 
the stables. 

Suddenly and without the slightest warning, upon this 
peaceful unsuspecting scene, the storm burst forth in all its 
deadly fury. The wind having suddenly whipped around to 
the northwest, the temperature fell in a very short time as 
m-uch as 60 and 70 degrees. The wind coming at the rate 
of about 60 miles an hour, picked up the loose snow and 
whipped it into a fine powder, rushed over the prairie as it 



66 

were a rapidly moving wall of snow and fine particles of 
ice. Thus the air was so thick with fine snow, driven along 
by the furious storm, that it became very difficult to breathe 
and almost impossible to open one's eyes even for a mo- 
ment. This choking, blinding effect of the storm soon ex- 
hausted either man or beast and, of course, all sense of 
direction was lost. Thus it seems probable that many of 
the victims were at first choked into exhaustion before they 
froze to death. 

Many narrow escapes are told of that day. But there 
were also many who narrowly missed finding a shelter and 
never lived to tell their experiences. Some lost their way 
even between house and barn, and some were found frozen 
only a few rods from the house they had tried to find, but 
in vain. This was the case with two girls to the east of 
our place, who in going out to look for a younger brother 
never came back but were found frozen to death a short 
distance from the house. My younger brother Sivert and 
I were at the barn when the storm struck. We did the best 
we knew how for the cattle. Father being absent at a neigh- 
bor's and then we started for the house. We were only a 
short distance from the house and there was also a small 
building between, but even then we had to pause before start- 
ing out and take definite aim from where we were and then 
run, as we say, "for dear life". We reached the house to the 
great relief of Mother, who had become very anxious about ' 
us by that time. 

The storm raged with merciless and demon-like destruc- 
tiveness all that afternoon and all thru that night, with 
the temperature getting colder as the hours slowly rolled 
by. What terror and suffering the hours of that afternoon 
and fearful night brought to many, no one will ever know. 
There were those out in the storm, fighting desperately hour 
by hour with death, and in most cases only to find them- 
selves rapidly nearing complete exhaustion. Then came the 
gradual numbness of all the sensibilities, followed by 



67 

nature's merciful growing unconsciousness as drowsiness 
and sleep crept upon them and they at last stumbled over in 
the snow not to rise again. But tho the many tragedies and 
sufferings out in the open prairie that dreadful night were 
beyond words or imagination, yet scarcely less was the suf- 
fering of fathers, mothers and relatives of the lost ones who 
were utterly helpless in most cases even to attempt a rescue. 
These latter, as they listened to the merciless storm all thru 
that night, almost had a taste of the agonies of the lost 
world— if such a thing can be in this world. For in many 
cases their waiting thru the night was utterly without hope. 
If they knew their loved ones were caught by the storm 
some distance from the house, they also knew that there 
could be no hope. So they could only follow them in thought 
and imagination out there in the storm and the darkness as 
they were fighting their unequal and losing fight with the 
cruel, relentless storm. But even those who were in uncer- 
tainty as to the exact whereabouts of members of their fam- 
ilies, like parents who had children in school, scarcely suf- 
fered less, for they had no assurance but that theirs, too, 
might be out there in the storm, and in many cases their 
worst fears proved to be the fact. 

However, as all things come to an end, so this night of 
nights. The storm let up somewhat toward morning, and 
the new day at last came on, gray and terribly cold. The 
snow everywhere as far as eye could see lay piled up in 
great drifts. The prairie, especially near farm houses, was 
in many places dotted with frozen cattle, and other cattle 
still alive. There were over the country thousands and 
thousands of these cattle either already dead, dying or bad- 
ly frozen. But worst and saddest of all, there were in this 
state and adjoining parts of Iowa, Minnesota and Nebraska, 
over two hundred men, women and children scattered around, 
singly or in groups, in the snow. Some were found sitting; 
some lying as tho in their last step they had stumbled for- 
ward on their face exhausted. Some even standing and, as 



68 

it were, about to take one more step when the end had come. 
Not strange that January 12, 1888, is the most memorable 
and terrible date in all the world's story to many a settler 
whose loved ones were out in the storm that fearful night 
and who never came back. 



CHAPTER XV 

When The Fathers And Mothers Of Today Were 
Boys And Girls 

We have spoken of the men and the women who broke 
the ground and prepared the way for the prosperity and 
comforts we enjoy today. It would be unfair not to men- 
tion the part which the boys and girls also bore m this 
struggle with raw nature, poverty and many discourage- 
ments. In the early spring, as soon as seedmg was we 1 
under way, the boys— and often, when there was no avail- 
able boy on the place, the girls— had to keep vigilant watch 
of the cattle, and this thruout the long summer until the corn 
was all out. There were no "pastures" or wire fences in the 
early eighties. This meant for most boys that, either at 
home or away from home, they had to be out on the prairie 
with the cattle beginning with early spring and ending late 
in the fall, from early morning until night, ram or shine, 
and not even a Sunday off, or at least very seldom. Ihe 
food we carried for our dinners would, of course, get mussed 
stale and unpalatable, being carried around all day and 
exposed to the hot sun. The water, or whatever we earned 
to drink, would become even less palatable and often scarce. 
Often in our extreme thirst we would drink out of the 
sloughs or stagnant lake beds. Then in the spring and tall 
we would frequently have a cold, drizzling rain continumg 
all day and often soaking us to the skin as there was no 
shelter, and raincoats were almost unknown. Every step we 
would take thru the wet grass the water would churn in our 
shoes and we had to keep going, for the cattle were generally 
restless at such times and insisted on starting off in direc- 



70 

tions where lay the plowed land or hayl and which must be 
guarded. 

Where there was no boy in the family, girls had to do 
this job, for the cattle had to be herded. For them, as 
can readily be seen, this job was even more difficult than 
for the boys, being impeded in their chase after the cattle 
by their skirts dragging in the tall, wet grass. Not strange 
that some of them sacrificed their health and future in this 
task. Of course, when, as in the case of most girls, they 
were at home, they would generally be relieved for at least 
part of the day. But even half a day was long under those 
conditions. 

But let it not be inferred that we boys, and the girls, 
too, had no good times during those long summer days. The 
sun shone anyway most of the time, and we made the most 
of our opportunities while the sun shone. We boys hunted 
gophers, digging them oat or drowning them out if near a 
pond; we dug Indian turnips in the spring and picked 
grapes, plums and berries in their season if we could get to 
them; built stone houses or caves; waded or swam in the 
sloughs or creeks; fished; fought snakes and skunks and 
sometimes one another. We traded jack knives, which were 
our chief valuables and consequently a standard medium of 
exchange; we braided long, long whips made from old boot 
legs or even willow bark; we broke young steers to ride on, 
at least attempted to, and sometimes they in turn nearly broke 
our necks by bucking and throwing us off; we concocted 
special modes of terrible punishment for exasperatingly 
troublesome members of our flocks. Much of the time, how- 
ever, we could not get together or, as we said, "herd to- 
gether". Then time passed more slowly and we had lots 
of time to think and even to brood over our job, which we 
considered about the worst there was in the world. How- 
ever, with all its drudgery and sometimes loneliness and 
hardship, our job was a good preparation for the jobs that 
lay ahead of us. 



CHAPTER XVI 

Religious Movements And Workers Among These 
People 

We have mentioned Reverends Nesse, Graven and Eiel- 
sen as pioneers in laying the foundations for the Church in 
these settlements. Among those who gave many years of 
service in the formative period of church development should 
also be mentioned. Rev. Carlson, who followed Graven, who 
wrought for many years and at last found his resting place 
near one of the churches he had so long served. We cannot 
refrain from ojffering, altho a far too inadequate tribute, to 
one who has given the years of her life for the brightening 
and bettering of the lives of others; one who, altho not a 
pastor, yet as one pastor's devoted daughter and equally 
devoted as the wife of a succeeding pastor, gave the years of 
her young womanhood as well as the maturer years of her 
life to the service of these people — Mrs. C. T. Olberg, nee 
Carlson. For many years as a teacher in the parochial 
schools and continuously as a worker in the various activi- 
ties of the church, especially among the younger people, and 
later as the pastor's wife, going in and out among the people, 
she has exerted an ennobling. Christianizing influence which 
only the angels of God and the far-off shores of eternity can 
estimate or measure. 

There are many more, both men and women, lay-men and 
clergy, who have labored for their Master in this region, 
whose names I shall not be able to dwell upon, but whose 
names and records are in the Book of Life in Heaven and 
also written deep in the book of human life touched by them 
here on earth. Just to name two or three, there was Rev. 



72 

Dahl of Gayville, who has put in a lifetime there. Then 
among the many visiting clergymen were Rev. G. Norbeck, 
Governor Norbeck's father, and a goodly number of others, 
lay and clerical preachers. 

There were in the earlier years extensive "revivals", 
generally promoted by outsiders, often of other denomina- 
tions, such as these of the middle eighties and middle nine- 
ties. There were other movements by laymen, both Lutheran 
and of other denominations. There were bitter controver- 
sies at times between the leaders of these movements, espe- 
cially those promoted by men of other denominations than 
the Lutheran and the more strict adherents of the local 
churches. There were also bitter doctrinal controversies be- 
tween members or adherents of the various branches of the 
Lutheran faith. Of the words said and the things sometimes 
done on these occasions none of the participants would be 
proud now, and I shall not perpetuate them by repeating 
what ought to be forgotten. The word "scorpion" is not 
just the right substitute for "Christian brother", but I dis- 
tinctly recall that it was thus employed even between 
Lutherans. 

Suffice it to say, there was often narrowness and intoler- 
ance on both sides, both as between denominations and be- 
tween branches of the Lutheran Church itself. There was 
some good in most of these revival efforts and there were 
also some features which could justly be criticised. 

There could be no doubt as to the sincerity of most of 
these revivalists, but being for the most part men and women 
of very limited education, they sometimes lacked balance and 
developed some vagaries. There were those who specialized 
on "Tongues" and on written revelations performed under 
spiritual ecstasy. Some had "revelations" that they should 
go to Africa to convert the heathen and a few actually went, 
soon returning sobered and saddened in their disappointment 
that the tongue gift did not enable them to understand, or to 
be understood by the natives. 



73 

Others advocated communism, baptism by immersion as 
indispensable to salvation, etc. In general there was a 
strong prejudice against any kind of church organization 
and to any regularly paid ministry. These extreme tenden- 
cies were, of course, a natural reaction against the evil in 
churches where a mechanical organization and the 
repetition of dead forms were all that reminded of what 
should have been a living spirit. 

But to some people then and even now, a religious effort 
was either of God or of the devil, and consequently either 
wholly black or wholly white. 

Then, too, when people believe, as many did and do still, 
that one's immortal salvation depends more on his holding 
a correct intellectual creed than on the spirit and fruits 
manifest in his life, it was inevitable that discussions of 
mere points of doctrine or creed, should become so intense 
at times as to lose wholly, for the time being, the Christian 
spirit. However, we shall, in this connection, give our 
pioneer fathers and first settlers credit for one great quality: 
They had convictions; they knew what they believed and be- 
lieved it heart and soul. They did not, as some of this genera- 
tion seem to do, doubt their beliefs and half believe their 
doubts. 

In closing this brief outline of the religious activities of 
these people, allow me to give a boy's pleasant remembrance 
and loving tribute to one of the many traveling lay preachers 
who came to our house and also held services around in the 
neighborhood. John Aalbu and his good wife had settled 
near Ash Creek, Union county, in the sixties, and having re- 
tired from active farming in the eighties, they would drive 
the distance of 30 — 40 miles to our settlement on Turkey 
Creek several times a year. We children were always glad 
to see them. They had a top buggy, which in itself was 
of interest to us, as there was as yet no such luxury in our 
neighborhood. In this buggy, among other things, was al- 
ways to be found a good sized tin can of smoking tobacco, 



74 

for John and his wife both smoked. This was not consid- 
ered as anything peculiar then or as objectionable on the 
part of the preacher and his wife, as it might be now. Now 
it seems that only women in the highest society may smoke. 
So amid clouds of the burning incense they would talk theol- 
ogy, religion, and also give practical hints on household and 
farm matters to their hosts, who were "newcomers." Mrs. 
Aalbu was a woman of very good mind and keen intellect. 
She would often correct a quotation from the Bible when 
not quite exact and serve as mentor to her husband when 
he, in the course of the service or some ritual, would forget 
something. It was only in later years, however, that he be- 
came ordained and in going thru the rituals at the various 
sacraments and services she was the "better half" in fact 
as well as name. This was owing to her splendid memory 
as also to her generally keen mind. 

We did not see many strangers in those days, and how 
much these visits meant to us children as well as our 
parents! The discussions of fine theological points were 
often complicated and lasted far into the night, but we en- 
joyed them as well as we enjoyed our visitors. May God 
bless them, their work and their memory! 

As an illustration of the subtlety of these discussions we 
might give a few of the topics : "Which Precedes in Christian 
Experience, Repentance or Faith?" "Faith or Works, Order 
of Precedence and Relative Worth." "Can a Man of His 
Own Accord and Strength Repent?" "Can a Christian in 
This Life be Wholly Sanctified?" "Free Will or Predestina- 
tion?" 



CHAPTER XVII 

Biographical And Autobiographical Sketches 

It has seemed best to include as a supplement to this nar- 
rative a number of sketches of individuals. Some of these 
individuals are already mentioned in the general narrative, 
and in such instances these separate narratives continue the 
record where we left off. Then there are some not men- 
tioned in the general record but who belong by every right 
of circumstance to this Norse immigrant group and whose 
separate chronicles are of special interest and importance in 
view of our general purpose. This purpose, as already 
stated, is to hand down to the sons and daughters of the 
Norse pioneer immigrants a picture of the men and women 
who faced primitive nature in this part of the new continent 
and tamed it, causing the wilderness to bloom into the present 
prosperous, beautiful land. 

A Daughter Settlement 

(Narrated in part by H. B. Reese) 

It was a winter day of 1902 that Father said to me, "I 
have had a letter from Halvor Hevle today. He wants to 
sell his land," he added. "Yes, I suppose he will have no 
use for that now, seeing he has moved away", I replied, and 
dismissed the matter from my mind. After a pause. Father 
said, "I thought you might buy it." I smiled at what 
seemed an absurd suggestion, for I had about a quarter of a 
dollar of money about me just then and no immediate out- 
look for ready money. I also knew that Father had none to 
lend me. So I replied: "He will have to sell his farm with- 
out money and without pay if I am to buy it." 



76 

Father thought for some time and finally added: "Hevle 
asks $1,000.00 for his land (i^ Sec.) and half of it cash. 
You can get a loan of $500.00 on it and he will be willing to 
take a second mortgage on the land for the balance." 

Thus having nothing to risk in the deal, and moreover 
the idea of owning a farm of my very own kindling my 
ambition and appealing to my imagination, I readily agreed 
and the deal was made. 

There was a fairly good dug-out on the place built up of 
stone and with a sod roof and board floor. The stable was 
of the usual kind, straw, with a little framework of rails 
and posts to support the roof and walls. But the layout 
seemed good to me because it was my own and the first home 
founded by myself. 

I bought a team and broke some ground that summer, 
living at the old homestead one mile south. The next spring, 
however, I married a wife who consented to share the humble 
dwelling with me, and it became my home. Her maiden 
name was Hanna Bjorlo. 

Soon, however, I was given to realize that in going into 
debt and in founding a home of my own I had assumed new 
responsibilities and burdens hitherto unknown. Thus after 
going into debt not only for the land but for the necessary 
equipment to work it and a few household necessities, we 
entered upon the year 1904 of notorious crop failures. It 
was also the time of a great financial depression. So that 
fall, instead of the original debt of $1,000.00, I found my- 
self involved to the extent of $1,700.00 with little to show 
for it besides putting in two years of hard toil. 

In this situation of seeming failure I began to think that 
farming of all occupations rewarded its devotees most stingi- 
ly. A fellow gives to it the best of his years and strength 
and moreover allows himself to be tied down to a place only 
to be rewarded with crop failures and ever increasing ac- 
cumulations of debt. 

However, when one has the responsibilities of a family 



77 

one cannot well run away from a situation no matter how 
bad, even if one were inclined to do so, the only possible 
procedure seemed to be to appease ones creditors as far as 
possible, get an extension of time and try again. I sold 40 
acres of my farm, being the only thing I could sell, for 
$450.00. This tided us over until the next year when we 
hoped for better fortunes. 

The next year came and brought us a better crop, but 
the prices were most discouraging. In 1895—6 I sold 
wheat at 43— 45c per bushel, flax for 48c, corn 15-18c and 
oats 13c. Hogs were from $2.50 to $2.80 per cwt; cattle 
were from $15.00 to $18.00 for a milch cow and $25.00 for 
a three-year-old steer. These prices continued more or less 
for several years. Hired help was, however, corresponding- 
ly low, being from $15.00 to $18.00 per month during the 
summer months. 

Nevertheless, after nine years of toil on this place with 
varying fortunes, I was at last able to pay for the place and 
also to make considerable improvements in buildings, both 
for the family and my accumulation of stock. The place, 
in fact, was beginning to look quite homelike, with trees and 
more sightly and comfortable buildings as well. 

One would now expect me to feel somewhat satisfied and 
gradually settled down there for the rest of my days, raising 
our family and enjoying what we had or came to have. We 
had a nice little farm three miles from town with our old 
friends, neighbors and near relatives all around us. 

There is a trait in human nature which is designated by 
various names according to the individual point of view. 
Some call it ambition, or forward looking; others, greed, 
covetousness, etc. The underlying idea seems to be a sort 
of discontent with one's present conditions and attainments, 
no matter what they are, a sort of forever reaching out for 
something greater ahead; to expand, explore new paths and 
to risk in the hope of winning. Whether this trait is good 



78 

or otherwise, I shall not attempt to discuss, but I do know 
that it is strong in most of us and often dominating. 

Thus I happened to make a trip to Charles Mix county 
(Bloomington) in 1902. The land there was much more 
level and the country more open than where we lived in 
\ankton county. So it looked to me to have more advantages 
for farming on a large scale. Moreover, the land was 
cheaper than where we were. So before returning home I 
had bought a quarter section near Bloomington, and that next 
spring we moved unto a rented place adjoining it. 

But we had not been there a year before I realized my 
mistake. The level land did not produce the crop which we 
had anticipated, and there was not nearly the chance for 
cheap pasture either that we had been led to believe. Any 
free range was a thing of the past. We had a good start 
in cattle now, and I began to look around for some place 
in the northwest where there would be more room and more 
chance for this enterprise. 

To understand my next move it is necessary to go back in 
our family tree to another branch and its development. 

My brother, J. B. Reese, who had gone away to college 
about the time I began my independent farming, had now 
entered the work of the ministry and had been called to 
Wessington Springs and to care for the church work in the 
surrounding country as well. On a visit home he had told 
us of the cheap land and the fine opportunities in that new 
country, especially for cattle. A little later he bought a 
section of land up there, getting his brother S. B. and sister, 
now Mrs. Nysether, and also Martin Nysether to each take 
one quarter with him. The land was bought for $5.00 per 
acre, and as far as the three last named owners were con- 
cerned "sight unseen". 

As an illustration of how seemingly small circumstances 
lead to great issues in our lives, I recall the first trip I made 
to size up this section of land which I contemplated buying 
for the parties above mentioned and myself. It was the 



79 

year after the last big fire, the notorious one of 1899, I be- 
lieve. The fire had seemingly burned the very roots out of 
the ground, so that the little grass visible at the time of our 
visit in the latter part of July, was in tufts here and there 
with vacant spaces in between. As I stood on the hill, east 
of the present buildings on the J. B. Reese place, the land 
looked so poor and desolate that I almost lost "my nerve" 
as far as recommending it to my partners for purchase, even 
with all the faith I had in the new country generally. But 
as I stood there realizing that the whole decision rested with 
me whether to buy or not, I noticed an angling trail across 
the corner of the land to the northeast along which the fire 
had been put out. But the thing which drew my interest 
particularly was that on the other side of this trail, or where 
the fire had not gone the grass was much better. This de- 
cided me. I purchased the land mostly on credit. This led 
to my brother's coming up and buying and finally moving 
up. His coming in turn led to the coming of practically 
the whole present settlement. — Editor. 

In August 1902 a friend by name of Ole Sletten and 
myself started out to drive overland to see this country 
of which we had already heard interesting reports thru my 
brother. We spent the first night of our journey at Bridge- 
water, and the country around there seemed good to my 
partner. But when we reached Mitchell and vicinity, where 
the soil was sandy and dry, so that the prairie was quite 
seared over, it being in the month of August, my part- 
ner thought we might as well turn back, as there would 
be no use in exploring farther into a country like that. The 
grass was too short and scant. Moreover, the buildings and 
other improvements along the way gave no suggestion of 
prosperity among the farmers. Up thru Hutchinson county 
we passed a great many of the long, low mud houses belong- 
ing to the Russian German settlers there. These, too, were 
responsible for our poor impression of the northwest country 
at this point. 



80 

Nevertheless, we proceeded to Wessington Springs, where 
we met my brother, J. B, Reese, who took us out the next 
day to see the land he had bought and the country generally. 
We went out some 15 — 16 miles southwest of Wessington 
Springs, and if the land had seemed poor to us before, now 
it seemed only worse. We passed a considerable number of 
empty houses which indicated that the inhabitants had been 
forced to abandon the land on which these stood. It was in 
August and dry so that the prairie was quite seared over. 
Then, too, the last big prairie fire which ravaged this sec- 
tion had just gone thru a couple of years before, destroying 
the greater number of the buildings on the many abandoned 
homesteads and also burning the very roots out of the 
ground. What grass was lett, or rather roots, stood in tufts 
with a big vacant space of ground between tnese tutts. 

My partner did not express himself much as to the new 
country, but what he thought about it can be guessed by the 
fact that he wanted none of it for his own. However, I 
bought a quarter section of it adjoining the tract which J. 
B. Reese had already bought, before returning home, think- 
ing it might do for pasture. I paid less than $5.00 per acre 
for it, so I felt that I could not lose much anyway. 

May we digress for a moment here and point out the 
history of the original homesteaders of this section we are 
just describing, for it is full of interest and has also not a 
few of the tragedies of the prairie. This part of the state has 
seen more than the average of the disappointments incident 
to pioneer life. It has been the grave-yard of many bright 
hopes and furnished a burial place instead of a building 
place for not a few pioneers of the prairie. 

The valley between Templeton to the north and Crow 
Lake to the south, with some of the adjacent land as well, 
was settled mostly by people from New York, Virginia and 
Pennsylvania in the early eighties. These people had some 
means, according to the standards of those times ; were above 
the average pioneer in education and in general started in 
to build homes embodying not merely necessary shelter but 



81 

even refinement and comforts. They planted trees, both 
shade and fruit trees; also flowers and shrubs. 

The first years of their settlement were sufficiently wet 
and the crops were correspondingly good, some getting up- 
ward of 30 bushels of wheat per acre on the newly broken 
ground. This encouraged the settlers even to going into con- 
siderable debt for equipment to carry on larger farm opera- 
tions. Land rose in value from free homesteads to $300.00 
to $500.00 per quarter. Then came the dry years of 1893 
— '4 — '5 and others as well of small or no crops. Not only 
no crop, but all the wells dried up so there was the great- 
est scarcity of water for man and beast. Many of these peo- 
ple were heavily in debt and it was almost impossible to 
borrow any more to tide over the emergency. 

Then it was that the people began to stampede, as it were, 
going out as many as 30 — 40 in one company. Some who 
had many obligations but few scruples are said to have made 
their departure less conspicuously, quietly creeping away 
between sunset and dawn and without bidding anyone good- 
bye. 

It was these conditions of the early years and the peo- 
ple who ran away from here to report their experiences far 
and wide which gave South Dakota a black eye and a bad 
name for years to come. 

Yet after the great exodus, when the country was almost 
depopulated in a few months, there were found a few left 
behind. These were generally the ones who had had little or 
nothing to begin with and who now did not have enough to 
go anywhere else even if they wanted to do so. Those who 
were left by 1900 had gotten their second wind, as it were, 
having learned to adapt themselves to the country and were 
getting a start in cattle. 

The big fire referred to above, sweeping over the section 
in '99 and destroying many of the vacated buildings, as also 
the remnants of orchards and groves, completed the wip- 
ing out of the visible monuments of the first settlers, so the 



82 

country was nearly back again to the primitive conditions in 
the early years of 1900. 

It was at this time (1904) that we decided to remove 
from Charles Mix county to Jerauld and the vicinity just de- 
scribed. To move such a distance overland with all one's be- 
longings, including cattle, as also a family in which were 
several small children, and in the treacherous month of 
March, was no joy ride for any one concerned. After look- 
ing about for a partner in this difficult enterprise, I finally 
made arrangements with one, Knut Lien, to join me. He 
had about 40 head of cattle and was a single man. I took 
with me about 60 head, so on a morning in the early spring 
of 1904 my partner and I started with our first loads for the 
land of wide and roomy pasture if not of still waters. On 
the evening of the second day we stopped in front of the old 
bouse on my brother's place, which was to be our future 
home. But the situation which met us was not especially 
encouraging to tired, cold and hungry men. The window 
lights were broken; the floor, too, the house having been 
used for a granary, had given way. There was no shelter 
for our horses and, worst of all, not a drop of water on the 
place. 

I was, indeed, discouraged at the outlook and said to 
Knute: "We will not unload. We shall rest until morning 
and then return." He made no reply, and after doing what 
we could for our horses we lay down on the floor to get 
what rest we could. 

However, the next day the sun shone, and with the sun- 
shine came renewed courage. We put some supports under 
the floor and unloaded our goods into the house. Then we 
went on to the springs for lumber and soon had a shed 
built to shelter the horses. But the lack of water was the 
worst of our needs and could not quickly be met. An arte- 
sian well had been put down the year before in anticipation 
of our moving, but it did not furnish any water even with a 
pump and wind mill. The shallow wells on the place, too, 



83 

were dry. It became evident to us why the people who had 
preceded us in these parts had left the country. 

However, having severed our connections where we had 
been living, and with our cattle to dispose of somehow, there 
seemed nothing to do but to go forward. So I returned to 
Bloomington, and hiring a man to help us, we started, now 
with all our belongings, for the new home. On the evening 
of the third day, or April 17th, 1904, we reached Crow Lake. 
We, ourselves, as well as the cattle, were very tired, so we 
camped there for the night, the family having gone on pre- 
viously to the house we were to move into. 

That night a snow and sleet storm broke upon us, lasting 
all of the next day. With no hay and worn out from the 
trip, the cattle began to succumb. Two were left on the place, 
nine died during the five or six miles which remained of the 
way, and still five more after arriving at our destination. 
Those which survived were so exhausted that it took them 
most of that summer to recover. 

This, then, was our first taste of the new land, and it 
seemed at the time just a little bitter. My cattle dead or 
nearly so ; nothing to do with ; everything to be done. 

However, during that spring we managed to get a new 
well sunk, 1260 feet deep, costing $650.00. I also put in 
15 acres of wheat and 18 of barley with 90 acres of corn. 
Fortunately we got a good crop that year, which we also 
greatly needed. 

At first it seemed rather isolated in those days. There 
were sometimes a couple of weeks in which we did not see 
a human being outside of our own family. The distance to 
Mr. Smith, our nearest neighbor to the north, was three miles. 
To the south, four miles, were Will Hughes and Will Horsten 
and also the Rendels. Then there was Mr. Gaffin and two 
or three others southwest of his place. So there was room 
and to spare between neighbors in those days and for some 
time following. 

From this small beginning has now grown up a fine 



84 

neighborhood with a good community, church and congre- 
gation; rural mail delivery; phones; modern homes, and 
good roads. Among those who have helped build this 
splendid community should be mentioned besides those 
above, the Moen families, the Aalbus; the Fagerhaugs — 
Iver and Arnt; the Stolen brothers — Emericht, Olalf, and 
Martin; Vognild brothers; Bjorlos; Bjerkagers; Petersons, 
and others. It is a matter of just pride that out of this 
little group above mentioned, no less than seven young 
men served in the Great War. These were Reuben Peter- 
son, Martin Peterson, Hugo Peterson, Ole Sneve, Martin 
Stolen, William Linsted, and Roy Goffin. Two of these — 
Reuben Peterson and Ole Sneve — were at the "front" for 
months and went thru some of the bloodiest battles of the 
War. — Editor. 



CHAPTER XVIII 
Looking Down The Trail To The Years Ahead 

We have followed the trail of the first immigrants for 
more than half a century, from the time they left the old 
home until they have become an integral part of the life of 
the new home of their adoption. So marvelous has this ex- 
perience been that to many it must seem almost like a dream 
or fairy tale. They came out of a land of poverty and 
hampering restrictions, social, political and religious. They 
found an opportunity to attain a comfortable living and a 
chance to help at the big job of working out a democracy. 
They came strangers to a strange land, they have already 
come to share in every position of trust and honor in the 
new land, with the exception of the presidency, including a 
number of governors. They came out a comparatively small 
company; they have become a multitude, there being already 
in this country more people of Norse extraction than the 
whole population of the mother country. 

As we look around us among the particular groups here 
described, and see that the fourth generation from the pio- 
neers is already coming on, the thought comes to us: "What 
of these people and their descendants a hundred years from 
now?" 

As I, in vision and imagination, put my ears to the 
ground of present prophetic facts and tendencies, I hear the 
distant tramp of great multitudes out of the oncoming gener- 
ations. Who are these multitudes which no man can num- 
ber? They are the sons and daughters of the immigrant, 
tho outwardly indistinguishable from the Mayflower product 
which, too, are the descendants of immigrants. But whilf^ 



86 

the Norse or Scandinavian immigrant is more quickly amal- 
gamated in the sense of taking on all the outward colorings 
of his new environment than any other nationality, what, 
if any, will be his distinctive impress upon, or contribution 
to, the life he has come to share? 

As there has been, and is, much foolish talk, malicious 
misrepresentation and manufactured-to-order hysterics 
about the "menace of the immigrant", on the part of pink- 
tea patriots and that whole breed of parasites who feed 
and fatten on stirring up and keeping alive class preju- 
dice and hatred, I want to turn on the light here and now, 
the light of truth and facts. 

In the first place, then, I wish to call the attention of 
these self constituted. Simon-pure and, in their own estima- 
tion, only Americans, to the fact that there is not in itself any 
disparagement to a man to be an immigrant or descendant of 
one. Did they ever read about the Pilgrim Fathers, George 
Washington, Ben Franklin or Abraham Lincoln? Well, 
these and multitudes of others they might read about were 
all "immigrants" or descendants of immigrants; not only 
that, but our self-appointed detractor of the immigrant is 
the descendant of immigrants — unless he or she is an In- 
dian — and even the Indians are immigrants only of an 
earlier date. 

In the second place, while the immigrant should ever be 
mindful, and in most cases is, of what the new land has of- 
fered him in opportunity, yet be it remembered also that, 
as far as the "natives" around him are concerned, he has 
given them immeasurably more than they have given him. 
He has done the great bulk of the rough, hard work of the 
mine, forest, factory and of subduing the untamed soil, and 
without him there would have been far fewer soft-handed jobs 
for his critics and far fewer of the comforts of life and 
developments of the country for all the people to enjoy. He 
has built the railroads, literally by the sweat of his brow, 
while the superior "native" manipulated them, watered their 



87 

stocks and rode on them, finding that part of the enter- 
prise more comfortable and profitable. But unless the "for- 
eigner" had been willing to wield the shovel and lay the 
rails as well as roll them out red hot in the mill, where would 
the "American" have had a chance to shine in the deal? 
Again, we are told that the immigrant comes here igno- 
rant and without ideals and standards of life which would 
make him a safe member of a democracy. Of course, like 
most broad generalizations, this has a grain of truth when 
applied to some of the present influx from southern Europe. 
But when applied to immigrants generally, and especially to 
the class we have here described, the above judgment is 
just about the exact opposite of the truth. The illiteracy of 
the Norse immigrant is far less than that of the land of 
his adoption, in fact, practically negligible, and far less than 
that of any other class of immigrants. As for ideals of life 
and standards of morality, the immigrant was generally 
deeply shocked, on arriving here, at the lawlessness, pro- 
fanity, sordidness, crass materialism and godlessness prev- 
alent among the people around him who called themselves 
Americans. And speaking of "ideals" he came here in most 
instances because of his ideals of freedom — religious, politi- 
cal and economic; to have a chance to live out and express 
these ideals. They built schools and churches while many of 
them themselves lived in sod houses or dugouts. Their sons 
and daughters are found in every college and university of 
the Northwest and out of all proportion to their rank in the 
total population. They more than take their share in the 
four learned professions of teaching, medicine, the ministry 
and the law. In other words, he came for the very same 
reason that the first immigrants, or Pilgrim Fathers came — 
to find room for his growing ideals, as already shown in 
this narrative. Then, of course, like them, he also came to 
better himself economically thru realizing certain ideals of 
equality of opportunity which he had come to cherish in his 
home land. 



88 

Some time ago, Sinclair Lewis, the noted author, speak- 
ing on this subject, said: 

"I chose *Carl Erikson' as the hero, protagonist, what- 
ever you call him, of the 'Trail of the Hawk' because he is 
a typical young American. Your second or third genera- 
tion Scandinavian is the best type of American. ***They 
are the New Yankees, these Scandinavians of Minnesota, 
Wisconsin and the Dakotas. They have mastered politics 
and vote for honesty, rather than handshakes.* ***They send 
their children thru school. They accumulate land, one sec- 
tion, two sections, or move into town and become Metho- 
dists and Congregationalists, and are neighborly.*** And in 
a generation, thanks to our flag-decked public schools, they 
are overwhelmingly American in tradition." 

"Boston, Dec. 16. President Charles W. Elliot, who in 
an address before the Economic Club of this city has de- 
clared in favor of an unrestricted immigration and pro- 
claimed the ability of this country to 'digest' the newcomers 
of every religion, education and nationality, has been at 
the head of Harvard University since 1869, was a graduate 
of that institution in the class of 1853, and holds the degree 
of LL. D. from Williams, Princeton and Yale. He is con- 
sidered one of the highest living authorities in his specialty 
of chemistry and has written many scientific works." 

Permit me to offer a word of caution in this connection 
regarding certain tendencies and attitudes toward the im- 
migrant which are working just the opposite result from 
what is intended. 

There is that splendid movement inaugurated during the 
war — the Americanization movement. Many, and I would 
like to believe most of the workers in this movement, ap- 
proach the recent immigrant with understanding and respect 
and not with that disgusting provincial type of mind and 
patronizing air which we see here and there. Now it should 
be said very emphatically that any one who regards himself 
as a superior being merely because born on this side of the 



89 

Atlantic and the immigrant as an inferior because born on 
the other side, should keep his or her hands off Americaniza- 
tion if for no other reason, for this one: They are not them- 
selves in any true sense Americans, lacking both the Ameri- 
can spirit and ideals. It is such sociological tinkerers that 
often de-Americanize more immigrants than the others can 
Americanize. These recent comers are as keen to detect a 
patriotic sham as any native, and their disgust and resent- 
ment of it is profound. And the inevitable result is that 
they will judge the country by its supposed representatives. 

Even such organization as the American Legion and 
Home Guards should refrain from every appearance of 
functioning as spies and censors of the immigrant or even 
of organizations which may be considered radical so long 
as they do not clearly advocate lawlessness or violence. Yel- 
low paint, personal violence and breaking up of peaceable 
assemblies, in short, lawlessness, such as has already taken 
place over the country, will not tend to teach regard for law 
or love for country on the part of the victims. A mother 
cannot gain the love of a child or even respect by the abuse 
of force, neither can a government or organization inculcate 
patriotism by petty persecution and abuse. 

There are over one hundred ex-service men in this state 
who are the sons and grandsons even of the few pioneers 
described in this memorial. I had the privilege of address- 
ing a part of them at the home coming last summer. Let me 
say to such of them as may read these pages : Do not permit 
selfseeking men, small Americans, to borrow your splendid 
organization and glorious prestige to carry out their petty 
aims or personal spites. Be such big Americans that more 
recent arrivals seeing you, cannot help but admire you and 
learn to love the country which could produce you. This 
is real Americanization. 

Have these people then a peculiar racial contribution to 
make to the civilization of which they have become a part, 
and will they make it? As to the latter, all I can say is 



90 

that we should all make it our sacred aim, privilege and duty 
to deliver this our gift. I am sure we have it. 

What then is it? In the main it may be summarized in 
a few words: Industry, Thrift, a Sane Conservatism, Social 
Genuineness and Religious Devotion. 

I cannot believe that any one who knows the Norse im- 
migrant would deny that the above are outstanding expres- 
sions of his character and life. The "newcomer" was not 
perhaps very "smart" in the Yankee sense, and God forbid 
that he ever should become so, but he was a hard, persistent 
worker, and he saved. The man who lived "by his wits" or 
by hook and crook was not often found in his class, nor was 
he encouraged in his efforts if found. 

In this age of enormous over-production of non-pro- 
ducers; of innumerable hordes of swivel chair folks, of 
middle men, "manipulators", runabouts, who are mostly 
parasites on the social organism, is there not need of em- 
phasizing the production of something to meet real human 
needs ? 

There is much talk and theorizing about the cause or 
causes of the present high cost of living. There is, of 
course, no one single cause responsible for this situation so 
full of hardship for many and so great a menace to all. 
But one of the great causes, next to the shameless profiteer- 
ing by middlemen, is the alarming over-production of non- 
producers. The great hordes of people who want somehow 
or other to live by the sweat of the other fellow's brow 
rather than their own; who by their clamor create innumer- 
able jobs — paper jobs — in connection with national, state, 
and municipal government as also in connection with char- 
itable and ecclesiastical organizations. It is a part of our 
mission as the sons of producers to say to these parasites: 
"You've got to get off the other fellow's back," at the same 
time calling him by his right name — industrial slacker, social 
pauper, bum. 

So may we take for our slogan the great words of Car- 



91 

lyle: "Produce! In God's name, Produce!" Let us, like 
the Fathers, keep close to the world of real values and re- 
fuse to be enticed into that "paper world" which is one 
of the real menaces of our country, far more so than the 
"immigrant" ever was. In being industrious producers in 
our line, whatever it may be, we need not be "grinds". In 
being thrifty in an age of extravagance and criminal waste- 
fulness, we do not need to be stingy or niggardly. 

Yes, this our contribution is worth cherishing, for it is 
sorely needed today. 

If industry and thrift are gifts which our fathers brought 
to this land and which we should hand on as our peculiar 
offering, no less is that of sane conservatism. In this age of 
social, economic, political and even religious wildcat schemes 
and propagandas, America needs a balance wheel. We need 
a sane conservatism that is not, on the one hand, the corpse- 
like immobility of the typical stand-patters, or reactionaries 
to all progress, and who themselves are the cause of much 
insane radicalism. And, on the other hand, if true to our 
traditions and temperament, we shall not dance to every- 
body's fiddle without investigation of what sort of a tune is 
being played. 

Ours, then, should be the open mind; the forward look, 
tc examine, search out, weigh men and issues. When 
we, amid the hordes of voices who cry: "Lo here! Lo there!" 
occasionally find a prophet with a message, let us follow 
him. Let us be a "holy terror" to all cheap demagogs of 
every party and name, but let us also be the hope and sup- 
port of every true prophet, political, industrial or religious. 
This is our part. 

Social And Religious 

There is a beautiful sincerity, a certain heartiness about 
our Norse friendships and social relationships which I have 
not found elsewhere. Writers in recent years have been be- 
moaning "the lost kindness" of the world. Among our im- 



92 

migrant people, at least, you will find the lingering fra- 
grance of this old time kindness which for many in this age 
of pretense and social sham relations has become only a 
sad, sweet memory of the long ago. I charge us all, as in- 
heritors and trustees of this precious treasure — social sin- 
cerity and genuine kindness — let us cherish it, cultivate it 
and guard it as one of the very greatest valuables of life. 
For what is life without this, even with all the fine houses 
and lands, automobiles and aeroplanes? On the other 
hand, what is life with this genuine spirit of brotherliness 
in it? With this you can have the lights of Heaven and 
music of the spheres in a sod shanty. For where real good 
will is, Heaven is near. So let this beautiful sincerity, or 
heartiness, vitalize your handshake, flame in your look and 
thrill in your word of greeting to the fellow traveler over 
life's way. 

If our Norse immigrant has a distinctive contribution 
to make to America, industrially, politically and socially, 
no less certainly has he an offering to make to the highest 
and most important department of life, that of religion. The 
Scandinavian is almost instinctively religious. You find 
among them comparatively few specimens of that sleek, 
beefy, selfcomplacent, godless animal-type, so frequently 
encountered today in other quarters. The immigrant had en- 
countered too many of the realities of life; had been too 
often face to face with the ultimate facts of life and 
existence, to develop the shallow conceits of a mere beef 
animal whose main experience of life has been largely con- 
fined to a full stomach and the animal comforts. Not strange 
that this creature should speak great swelling words against 
the Church, the Christ and His followers, as well as against 
God Himself. The fool has always said in his heart (and 
with his stomach) : "There is no God". 

Because of this deep religious devotion characteristic 
of the Norse immigrant, and evolved amid the majestic 
mountains, the thundering rivers and water falls, as well 



93 

as the loudly resounding sea of his birthplace, he built altars 
to God and established his worship almost as soon as his 
feet touched the new soil. Partly because of his religious 
sincerity the expression of his religious life has some- 
times showed a certain narrowness of outlook and an in- 
tolerance of different religious forms which has not been 
to his credit. It is because of this latter trait that so many 
of the Norse immigrants and their descendants have been 
driven from the church of their fathers and are found 
in almost every religious sect in the country. We have 
heard "infant damnation" in its rankest form preached 
within the last year, and other doctrines as well, which 
are remnants of Mediaeval barbarism and which most 
Lutherans today would repudiate. Yet we believe the God 
of Jesus Christ is becoming more clearly seen, and that the 
wider horizons of truth are appearing. However, this is 
my plea: May we cherish the religious devotion, the real 
piety characteristic of our forebears. This is a contribu- 
tion greatly needed in an age of religious indifference, if 
not open hostility. And keeping alive in us and inculcating 
in our children this religious devotion, may we never be 
numbered among that class who religiously are lukewarm, 
neither hot nor cold, only fit to be spewed out of the mouth 
of God and man. Let us be a salt in the religious life of 
our country, for without genuine religion there can be no 
morality worth talking about among the mass of mankind; 
and without morality we can never succeed in developing, or 
even keeping from destruction, our experiment in democracy. 
So may we put this, too, our supreme gift, on the altar of our 
country. 

Now we close our humble effort with a word of tribute 
to those brave, unselfish men and women who left home, 
friends and native land, that we, their children and de- 
scendants, may have a better chance at life and happiness. 
They have paid the price of those who have to take and to 
hold the front lines in the great struggle with untamed 



94 

nature in a new, un-inhabited country. Many are the pre- 
mature graves, the lonely heartaches and tragedies, most of 
which only God knows. They have laid the material foun- 
dations for us deep and strong. They have also left us an 
inheritance of ideals and characteristics to hand on to the 
coming generations. If "American" is a state of mind, a 
certain kind and quality of ideals and aspirations, rather 
than a matter of birthplace, then our immigrant fathers and 
mothers were often more American than the native born. 
However, in any case these characteristics and ideals above 
enumerated are the life of our nation and ours to keep 
alive. And in holding aloft as our slogans, these ideals 
of industry, thrift, sane conservatism, genuineness and re- 
ligious devotion, we shall both build the noblest possible 
monument to the immigrant and also lay the sure founda- 
tions for the great future before us and our children. 

To the few men and women who still remain of the first 
generation of immigrants, let us show our love and respect 
while they still linger with us, for it will not be long that 
we can have the opportunity. When some political dem- 
agog, under the thin guise of super-patriotism, would by 
legislation or social odium deprive them of the consolations 
of religion in the old tongue to which they are accustomed, 
and thus send them with sorrow if not bitterness to their 
graves, let us have the courage and the manhood to fight 
these contemptible grand-standers openly and to a finish. 
The language question will solve itself in a few years in any 
case and without this violence and insult to a few lingering 
men and women who have served this country so well and 
who are now asking only that they be allowed to pass 
undisturbed to their grave. There they will rest from their 
labors, but their works will follow after them. 

THE END. 

August 10, 1920. 



I AM THE IMMIGRANT 

I am the immigrant. 

I looked towards the United States with eyes kindled by the fire 
of ambition and heart quickened with new-bom hope. 

I approached its gates with great expectation. 

I have shouldered my burden as the American man-of-all-work. 

I contribute eighty-five per cent of all the labor in the slaughter- 
ing and meat-packing industries. 

I do seven-tenths of the bituminous coal mining. 

I do seventy-eight per cent of all the work in the woolen mills. 

I contribute nine-tenths of all the labor in the cotton mills. 

I make nineteen-twentieths of all the clothing. 

I manufacture more than half the shoes. 

I build four-fifths of all the furniture. 

I make half of the collars, cuffs and shirts. 

I turn out four-fifths of all the leather. I make half the gloves. 

I refine nearly nineteen-twentieths of the sugar. 

And yet, I am the great American problem. 

When I pour out my blood on your altar of labor, and lay down 
my life as a sacrifice to your god of toil, men make no more 
comment than at the fall of a sparrow. 

But my brawn is woven into the warp and woof of the fabric of 
your national being. 

My children shall be your children and your land shall be my 
land, because my sweat and my blood will cement the founda- 
tions of the America of to-morrow. 

If I can be fused into the body politic, the melting pot will have 
stood the supreme test. 

Frederic J. Haskin. 



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